


Spider Jer, Spider Jer, Does Whatever a Spider Jer Does

by ApocalypseOfTheFucked



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, So yeah, Spiderman AU, and he has a bigass crush on michael, because SQUIPS arent around yet, but only cause he's super worried about jeremy and ends up taking it out on spiderman, but only in the totally gay pining best friend way, but they dont know it because theyre IDIOTS, but uh, he is kind of a dick, if i get around to writing more, ill add more tags as I go, jeremy is spiderman, michael has weird phobias, michaels sort of a harry osborn character, no betas we die like men, obviously, rabids go home references because SCREW YOU, rich isnt a dick, things may happen, who has a bigass crush on him, who is jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseOfTheFucked/pseuds/ApocalypseOfTheFucked
Summary: "You're a hero, right?""Um-""Then it's your responsibility to look out for civilians, right?!""Well-""So you'd better help me find my friend right now, or so help me God, I will suck your goddamn heterosexual dick!"





	1. Aggressive Blow Job Offers

**Author's Note:**

> i just watched the 2017 spiderman cartoon and
> 
> harry
> 
> and peter
> 
> are gay as hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're a hero, right?"
> 
> "Um-"
> 
> "Then it's your responsibility to look out for civilians, right?!"
> 
> "Well-"
> 
> "So you'd better help me find my friend right now, or so help me God, I will suck your goddamn heterosexual dick!"

"Did you see the news last night?"

No matter how many times he heard it, that was the question that would always give Jeremy a heart attack.

Lets run through the possible answers, shall we?

1\. "No, because I'm a liar."

2\. "No, but I already know exactly what happened because I'm fucking SpiderMan you dense fucker."

3\. "Yes. Have I mentioned I'm a fucking liar?"

"Uh, no, not yet." Jeremy said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Anything exciting happen?"

"You mean apart from Spidey _annihilating_ one of the biggest crime gangs in the city?" Rich grinned. "Nah, nothing too special."

"He didn't annihilate them, Rich," Michael rolled his eyes as they slid into their seats. "One of them dropped their fucking gun, he got lucky."

"Right, 'cause you _totally_ could've drop-kicked a guy out a window."

"He did not _drop kick_ him!"

Jeremy bit back a smile. It was rare that Michael got frustrated or angry, but Jeremy would be lying if he said it didn't look good. His eyebrows creased and his eyes narrowed into that special glare that he reserved only for bigoted dickheads and blue shells on Mario Kart.

It was pretty damn hot.

"Yo, Jer? Earth to Jer-Bear!" Michael smirked, waving a hand in front of his face. "What's up with you, dude? You sleeping enough or...?"

Jeremy's stomach went funny and he held back a laugh. Trust Michael 'Three-AM-Still-Counts-As-Early' Mell to worry about his sleeping patterns.

"Had a bit of a restless night, but it's good now." Jeremy smiled. Michael smiled back, but there was still a small crease between his eyebrows that Jeremy really wanted to smooth out with his thumb.

His face reddened and he quickly looked back to his sandwich. Friends did not crush on their friends, especially not best friends.

"I still don't understand your whole vendetta on SpiderMan, dude." Rich said, picking at his sandwich. "I think he's pretty hot."

Jeremy tried not to choke on his lunchables.

"I don't have a vendetta on SpiderMan." Michael huffed. "I just think he's kind of a showboat is all."

"Pfft, sure." Rich snorted. "You just don't wanna admit you want some of that spider dick, right, Mell?"

Jeremy choked on his lunchables.

"I do not!" Michael yelped, handing Jeremy his water bottle. “The guy's an asshole! 'Sides, remember the fire at the science fair last year?"

"Oh God, not this again-"

"Yes, this again!" Michael snapped. "I know he's the one who set it! He messed with Christine's project and the fire went up so he could play hero, I _saw_ him running off!"

"I-I think that's jumping to conclusions, Michael..." Jeremy said weakly, a shard of cracker still lodged in his throat.

"See!" Rich hollered. "Jeremy agrees with me! SpiderMan is a hot piece of ass!"

"I didn't say that!" Jeremy squeaked.

"Whatever." Michael rolled his eyes again."Can we just eat lunch?"

Jeremy frowned. Michael's angry face did look nice, but he didn't actually want him to be upset. He poked Michael's cheek gently.

"You want my orange?"

Michael grinned.

"Fuck yeah. Gimme them vitamins, white boy!"

"You don't have to say 'white boy' whenever I do anything, y'know."

"Eh, it's more fun that way."

oOo

"Do you really hate SpiderMan?" Jeremy asked one evening in Michaels basement.

Michael hummed, rolling the smoking joint between his fingers.

"I dunno, man. Like, it's cool that he saves people 'n shit. But people focus way more on the good stuff he does than the bad, y'know?"

Jeremy frowned as Michael took another hit. "Doesn't the good stuff make up for the bad stuff?"

"No." Michael glowered at the blunt. "'Cause he doesn't, like, repent for it. Y'know? He just jumps straight to the next thing, no apology or anything. Like, if he just showed up once and said some shit about, like, donating to help rebuild that rec centre he fucked up a while back, literally everyone would try to help, but he doesn't."

Jeremy bit his lip and tried to ignore the little voice in his head telling him that Michael was right. He'd wanted to help. The rec centre had meant a lot, for everyone. It was a sanctuary. As Jeremy Heere, he'd gone back to the crumbling building, offered to help in any way he could, but the owners waved him off. After that, he was convinced no one would even want to see SpiderMan go near that building again.

"All I'm saying is," Michael's words slurred slightly. "He could be using all his media attention to do some good. But instead he just vamps for the camera. It pisses me off." His face darkened. "And he got you hurt, too."

Jeremy winced. The science fair fire.

"I wasn't hurt, Micah-"

"Well you could've been!" He snapped, slamming his hands onto his mattress. The joint smoldered on the sheets. "You could've gotten hurt, or worse, and it would've been his fault!"

"Michael!" Jeremy grabbed Michaels hands, yanking the blunt away and patting at the singed hole it had burned on Michaels blanket.

"... Sorry." Michael mumbled, letting his hands go limp in Jeremys. "It just -" He bit his lip. "I can't lose you, Jer."

Jeremy smiled gently.

"I can't lose you, either." He said, rubbing his thumb across the back of Michaels hand. "You're my favourite person, Micah."

Michael smiled back. Something flickered in his eyes that Jeremy couldn't quite understand.

"And you're mine."

It was about then that they realised they were still, in fact, holding hands. Jeremy yanked his hands away like he'd been burned, and Michael stubbed out the joint and laced his hands over his lap, both of them looking away. Jeremy mentally slapped himself. Nice going, Heere.

"So, uh-" Michael coughed. "Wanna play some Smash?"

Jeremy smiled, relieved.

"Sure. I'm gonna beat your ass with Kirby."

"You only main Kirby cause of your vore fetish!"

Jeremy squawked, slapping Michael with a pillow.

"Lies! Scandal! You fiend!"

oOo

Jeremy really hated field trips.

Usually, he hated them for the regular reasons. Loud buses, dickish classmates, nightmare teachers, buildings that never had an AC and excessive noise that always made Jeremy so overwhelmed that he'd end up having a panic attack by lunch. At least Michael made it a little easier.

But this time, those weren't why he hated the field trip to Dillinger Inc.

This time, it was because bad guys couldn't give him a _fucking break._

It was at the worst time, too! He and Michael had been checking out the display room of the electronics department and geeking out over a new virtual reality headset when Michael elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

"Ow!" Jeremy yelped. "Dude, the hell?"

"Shh!" Michael hissed, slapping a hand over Jeremy's mouth and dragging him behind one of the big display podiums. " _Ixnay_ on the _ellingyay_!"

Jeremy made a small strangled noise in the back of his throat.

"Christine alert!" He whispered next to Jeremy's ear. Jeremy really hoped Michael couldn't feel how hot his face was. "Next to the glider thingy!"

"Mmph!" Jeremy whimpered. "Mm mn mph mph-nm mhm-mm!"

"Okay yeah, this isn't working." Michael smirked, uncovering Jeremy's mouth. "What was that, bud?"

"I, uh." Jeremy blanched. "I - I don't, um, l-like? Christine? Anymore?"

"You what?" Michael gaped. "When did that happen?!"

August 18th, just last year. They'd been playing Apocalypse of The Damned whilst stoned out of their mind, and they'd finally gotten past the level they'd been stuck on for about a week. Jeremy had turned to celebrate just as Michael took a hit of the blunt, the blue smoke framing his soft face, messy hair, warm eyes. And then it hit him. How he hadn't thought of Christine in weeks, how it felt so much more natural being around Michael than with her, how when he and Christine had gone on their one and only date, all he could think of was how much he wished Michael were there for him to talk to.

"Uh. Y'know. Um." He said, like a genius. "I just, um. Realised I didn't like her that way anymore."

"You pined after her for years and now you suddenly decide you just don't like her anymore?" Michael frowned, but he didn't look angry or upset. Just, really confused. And something else - hopeful? No. Jeremy was imagining things.

"Well, um." He sputtered, scratching his neck nervously. "Yeah. I-I actually, um."

Had Michael been that close before? He was looking at him so intently, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were searching for something. He tilted his head slightly and _god_ Jeremy wanted to kiss him. Wait, no, shut up, Brain. No kissing friends, and definitely no kissing friends in public places.

"Jeremy?" Michael asked gently. His voice was really nice. Like honey, or something. Soothing.

"Actually, um." Wait, no. No actually. What was he doing?! "M-Michael?"

Michael blinked, and was that a bit of pink on his cheeks?

"Uh. Yeah?"

Okay, yeah. He was doing this.

"I-I actually, um-" He took a deep breath. "Michael, I-"

And that was when all hell broke loose.

Something smashed through the massive floor-to-ceiling window that took up one wall of the room. The object, a medium sized oblong shape, kind of like a pill, rolled into the middle of the room, and began to dissolve into thick, wispy smoke, filling up the room in a matter of seconds.

"Michael?!" Jeremy yelped, grasping through the smoke wildly, screams and alarm bells piercing his ears. "M-Michael?!"

"Here!" Michael yelled over the screaming, somehow managing to find Jeremy's hand and tugging him to the doors. "Let's find the others and get out of here!"

Fuck.

"Uh, wait!" He shouted, yanking himself away. "I - I think I saw Christine head to the next wing!"

"But - Jeremy-!"

"You get the others, I'll get her!"

"Jeremy!"

"Just go! I'll be right with you!"

He was already sprinting away before Michael could say anything. He ducked behind one of the podiums, pulling off his clothes and leaving himself in the red and blue suit he kept underneath. He tugged his mask out of his pocket and shoved it over his head. Go time. Using his spider stickiness, he crawled up one of the display podiums and launched himself onto the ceiling. The ceilings were so high in these rooms, the smoke hadn't reached all the way up yet.

As he scanned from his new vantage point, he could just see the silhouettes of the students leaving the room, led by a small smudge of red that Jeremy could only just make out. He grinned beneath the mask. Michael really was amazing.

A larger shadow emerged from the smog by the window, sweeping through the thick smoke towards the small group of kids.

SpiderMan's smile fell. Not on his watch, asshole.

He latched a web to the ceiling, descending slowly so he was just above the thief.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to sneak up on people - whoa!"

A strong current blasted him backwards, his hands slipping from his web and sending him flying into the wall.

"That's a tad hypocritical, don't you think?"

The voice sounded male. And eerily like a James Bond villain.

SpiderMan coughed, his back feeling both numb and burning at the same time.

"At least I'm not the guy creeping on teenagers. C'mon, man. That's sketchy as hell."

"Enough talk." The criminal said, deadpan and emotionless. "Let's finish this."

"Wow, 'cause that wasn't the most generic line ever - _oh, Jesus_!"

Another current blasted him backwards, but just as SpiderMan braced for the impact of the wall, another current shot him forward. Another flung him back, another returned him easily. This pattern continued, sending him higher and higher into the air, until a current appeared directly under him, flinging him into the ceiling. As he fell back down, Jeremy quickly shot a web to another beam and slipped into the shadows.

"Hiding in a corner, spider boy?" Oh, real original, Jeremy thought to himself. He could practically hear the smirk in the mans voice. "I expected nothing less. But I'm afraid our little game will have to end here. I have what I came for. Goodbye, spider boy."

"It's Spider _Man_!" He snarled, webbing his way down from the ceiling. But the moment he touched the floor, the smoke seemed to recede back to the pill, reshaping it to back to the same size and shape as before. As the final wisp of smoke reformed into the big chalky pill, a black gloved hand snatched it from the floor. The guy sprinted to the shattered window, a stolen glider in hand.

He turned around for one last look, maybe to appreciate the anarchy he'd left behind, or maybe just to piss Jeremy off (mission fucking accomplished, dickwad), and Jeremy finally got a glance of the Bond villain knock-off who'd decided to royally fuck up his ~~confession~~ field trip and-

Keanu Reeves.

Dillinger Inc. just got broken into by Keanu fucking Reeves.

oOo

Jeremy webbed himself down to the Dillinger Inc. buildings courtyard, where the students were gathered. He'd tried to follow the Keanu Reeves clone out the window, but the moment he'd caught up to him, he was gone. Like some freaky disappearing act or something.

"Is everyone here?" He called out as he landing on the courtyard. He'd checked the electronics department for any stragglers, but it wouldn't hurt to make sure. "Is everyone here and accounted for?"

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement. He was about to web-sling back to the electronics department, snag his backpack and clothes and come back down as Jeremy Heere when a familiar red ball of 80s nostalgia shoved his way to the front of the crowd.

"Um, no, sorry, _no_!" Michael snapped, shouldering Dustin Kropp out of the way. "My friend Jeremy is missing!"

"Oh, uh-"

Fuck. How was he supposed to get away now?

"That's right!" Christine rose her hand, and Jeremy tried not to curse her for being such a good person. "I haven't seen him since the electronics department, sh-should we go look for him?"

"I don't think you should go back up there." SpiderMan said, trying to control the crowd. "We don't know if that smoke was toxic, and I doubt the police would like me bringing a bunch of teens onto their crime scene."

"Of course." Michael huffed, rolling his eyes. "Wouldn't want to mess up your precious image, Spidey."

"Wh- Hey!" Jeremy squawked. "I'm trying to do the right thing, here!"

"The right thing would be to find my friend!" Michael snarled. Jake Dillinger elbowed him roughly.

"Dude, back off!"

"Oh, shut _up_ , Jake!" Michael growled, shoving him away and drawing a couple gasps from the crowd. If Jeremy weren't so concerned for Michael's safety right now, he'd be impressed.

"Mr Mell, that's enough!" Their science teacher, Ms Bebb, said sharply.

"Jeremy is missing!" Michael howled. "Am I the only one who cares about that?"

"About that loser?" Someone sniggers from the crowd.

"What the _fuck_ did you just say!?" Michael roared. "I will _fucking_ kill you, Jared!"

"Mr Mell!" Ms Bebb snapped. "You do not use that kind of language!"

"Are you deaf?!" Michael screamed. "Did you not hear-?!"

"Whoa, whoa, man!" SpiderMan yelped, jumping between Michael and his teacher. "You need to chill!"

Jeremy knew he liked Michaels Angry Smolder, but he now knew that he was goddamn terrified of Michael's Rage Face.

"My friend is _missing_!" He screamed. "He could be hurt, or worse, and none of you are _doing_ anything!!" His voice cracked and a few tears rolled down his face. Jeremy wanted nothing more than to hug his friend, to wipe his tears and tell him it'd be okay. But he wasn't Jeremy right now.

It was Rich who came to his rescue. He shoved the crowd away and ran to Michael's side, pulling him away by his shoulders and getting him to focus on his breathing. Jeremy watched, wishing he could do something, anything. SpiderMan drifted away from the crowd, seeing Christine join the two from the corner of his eye. He smiled. Christine was nice. She would help.

He wanted to dash back into that building, turn back into Jeremy Heere, run to Michael and tell him it would all be okay, but the police were arriving and he needed to show some responsibility, like his mother would tell him to. 'With great power', and all.

It didn't take long to brief the detectives, but it was still time he was wasting not changing back. Finally, he was ready to leave. He sprinted past the officers and the students and was about to web-sling back up to the electronics department when-

"Hey!" Jeremy liked Michael a lot, he really did, but right now he was getting a little frustrated. "Hey, spider guy!"

"It's Spider _Man_ -" He grumbled under his breath, turning around to face his best friend. Michael was wrapped in a blue shock blanket, clutching it around his neck like a cape, and there were tear tracks down his face. Jeremy wanted to punch himself.

"You're a hero, right?" Michael panted, swiping at his face roughly.

"Uh - what?"

Michael glared.

"You're a hero." He repeated, slower this time. "Aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah-" "

So it's your job to look out for the citizens, right?"

"W-well, yeah, but-"

"So help me find my friend right now, or so help me God, I will suck your goddamn heterosexual dick!"

Wow, that was quite possibly the most aggressive (and only) blow job offer Jeremy had ever gotten.

"Um!" Jeremy spluttered. "Uh, y-yeah, sure!"

Michael opened his mouth to retort, then blinked and closed it, as if he hadn't expected SpiderMan to actually help him.

"Oh." He said. "Well. Good. Anyways!" He said loudly when SpiderMan opened his mouth to reply. "Let's go!"

"Uh, hold on, pal!" SpiderMan grabbed his wrist, stopping him from walking back to the building. "I wasn't kidding about what I said before. They're not gonna let me bring a student onto a crime scene. They're not even too happy about me going back up there, and I'm the one who fought the guy!"

"And let him go." Michael muttered under his breath. Jeremy chose to ignore it.

"Point is, we're gonna have to web up there."

Michael paled.

"No!" He snapped, ripping his wrist from SpiderMans grip. "No, nope, absolutely not, that is _not_ happening."

Jeremy grinned.

"What? 'Fraid of heights?" He asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"It's not a fear of heights!" Michael insisted. "... It's a fear of _falling_. Totally rational and not at all weird."

Jeremy's mask hid his soft smile.

"Then we won't fall." He said gently, holding out his hand. "Promise."

Michael's gaze flickered from SpiderMan's hand to his mask, and back again. After a moment, he carefully placed his hand in Jeremy's.

"Fine." He said quietly.

"Cool!" SpiderMan grinned, tugging Michael by the hand. "C'mon. There's too many people here."

They snuck around to the side of the building, any onlookers being too preoccupied with either police work, comforting their friends or sending a status update to Facebook. Jeremy grimaced. He could picture the headlines now: Local Vigilante Lets Villain Escape And Then Makes Perfect Highschool Boy Cry! What A Dick!

"Okay." He said as they reached a hidden shadowy spot at the side of the building. He still hadn't let go of Michael's hand yet. If he wasn't complaining, neither was Jeremy. "You're gonna wanna hang on to me."

Michael tugged his hand back and Jeremy felt a small pang in his chest.

"Yeah, no. The further away I am from you, the better."

"What is your problem with me?" SpiderMan snapped, though he already knew the answer.

"My problem?" Michael snarled. "My problem is that you care more about your image than helping people who need it! My problem is that if you spent one second of your media time telling people to donate to charity or help the less fortunate, they would, but you don't! You're an irresponsible jerk, now help me find my friend!"

Jeremy tried to convince himself it was the stress, that Michael didn't really mean it, but he knew Michael never lied.

"Fine." He sighed, defeated. "But you won't be able to come up unless you hold on to me."

Michael scowled, but reluctantly took his hand again. SpiderMan tried not to face palm.

"Do you want your arm to be dislocated? 'Cause that's what's gonna happen if you dont hang on properly. And I don't think your friend would like that."

Michael glared at him, cursing him for so much as referring to Jeremy, and Jeremy so badly wanted to yell _it's me, dammit, I'm right here!_ but he couldn't. He had a responsibility.

Two unsure arms carefully wrapped themselves around SpiderMan's shoulders, and Michael tucked himself awkwardly into his side. His body was stiff and rigid. Jeremy hated knowing he'd made Michael so uncomfortable.

"Okay." He said quietly. "Let's go."

He shot a web just above an open window on the same floor as the electronics department (at least, he thought so. this building was huge). Michaels eyes widened in awe, and Jeremy bit back a laugh. SpiderMan vendetta or no, Michael was, and always would be, a huge fucking nerd.

"Hold tight!" He laughed, and whipped them into the air.

Michael screamed directly into his ear, and Jeremy was beginning to doubt this position. Or, he was, until Michael's grip on him tightened and he buried his face in Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy grinned. He could get used to this. He tried to swing them directly through the open window, but it was harder to maneuver his web slinging now that he had Michael's additional weight. His ankle hit the window sill, and they went tumbling to the ground, head over heels.

Jeremy groaned as his sore back slammed into the floor. Hadn't he been through enough today?

"Nice one." Michael mumbled, his face planted into Jeremys chest. Silence, bisexuality, your presence is not needed now!

"Hey, you weren't so graceful yourself, pal." SpiderMan smirked. "But I'm not gonna complain about this particular outcome."

That made Michael look up. He frowned, taking in their position, and his eyes widened.

"Fuck!" He squawked, scrambling away from him and tripping over his shock blanket in his haste.

"Wow." SpiderMan sniffed. "Rude."

"You - you!" Michael growled, making strangling motions with his hands. He rolled up his blanket and shoved it in his hoodie pocket. "Let's just go."

"Lead the way, koala boy!" He felt kind of bad for teasing Michael like this, but it wasn't like he'd get a chance to when he changed back.

Michael frowned. "Koala boy?"

"Cause you clung." He explained. "When we webbed up here. Like a koala." Jeremy swore he saw Michael's lips quirk slightly.

"God. That's terrible."

"I'll come up with something better!"

Michael opened his mouth, a playful glint in his eye, before he stopped himself, his face settling back into a glower.

"Let's just find Jeremy."

No need.

After a few moments of painful silence, SpiderMan finally worked up the courage to say something.

"You were wrong, by the way." He said suddenly. Michael glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"'Bout what?" He asked, voice guarded.

"My dick." SpiderMan stated. "It's bisexual. Not hetero. So."

"Oh." Michael said, his shields ripped away by the blunt statement. "Well, um. Good for you."

"So if you're still interested in sucking it-"

"Oh, fuck _off_!" Michael snapped, his shields immediately going back up. "I was trying to freak you out! You seem like one of those guys who says 'no homo' after eating a banana."

Painful, but true. Up until sophomore year, he'd said 'no homo' so much that Rich had written it on his and Michaels back-packs - 'noh' on Jeremy's and 'omo' on Michael's.

"Sorry, bro, but I am at least forty percent homo." SpiderMan grinned. "So, uhh..." He said carefully, feigning casualness. "Does that mean there's someone else who's dick your interested in?"

"What?!" Michael whirled around to glare at him head-on. Jeremy began mentally writing his will.

"Or vagina! I don't mean to judge!" He yelped quickly, remembering that only Jeremy knew that Michael was gay, not SpiderMan.

"... Dicks." Michael muttered after a moment of Rage Facing (it really was terrifying). "Well," he said quickly. "Some guys have, like, other stuff, but. Guys."

"I get it." Jeremy smiled. "Guys are cute."

Michael smiled softly at the floor.

"Yeah. Pretty cute."

"So..." He pressed. "Is there a guy you're interested in?"

Michael's smile dropped.

"That's not really your business." He huffed, in his Defensive Voice. Jeremy felt a pang of disappointment.

"So there is someone."

"I just told you, it's not your business!" He snapped, quickening his pace so that he was walking ahead of SpiderMan instead of alongside him. Jeremy tried to ignore the ache in his chest. They walked in silence until they reached the electronics department.

"Okay." SpiderMan whispered, suddenly serious, from their position behind the wall. "I'll crawl in and see what I can find. Cool?"

"Hell no!" Michael hissed, keeping quiet in case of attracting any unwanted attention. "How do I know you're not gonna websling out that window without a second glance?"

Okay, well, that was just mean.

"It's like you said, kid." SpiderMan said, trying to keep his voice level. "It's my job to look out for citizens."

With that, he scaled up the wall and started crawling across the ceiling. He snagged a screwed-up gum wrapper from the pocket of his suit (he got snacky on patrol, sue him!), and tossed it down the hall, away from Michael. The security guards near the door frowned and glanced in the direction of the noise, giving him the perfect opportunity to sneak into the display room.

He crawled above the heads of the officers and returned to his vantage point in the corner. It looked like they hadn't checked behind the podium on the far right, where his bag was hidden. Carefully, he crept closer and flicked out a web, pulling it into his grasp. Score one to Heere! Slinging the back over his shoulders, he crawled back into the hallway, but instead of going back to Michael, turned left and ducked behind the other corner. He grabbed the clothes from his bag and started tugging them back on, making sure every inch of his suit was hidden, and then rushed back to his friend.

Jeremy suddenly felt the overwhelming need to punch himself in the face.

Michael was sitting against the wall, his knees hugged to his chest and his head tucked down, muttering to himself. His breath came out in small gasps, not enough to be hyperventilating, but pretty close. He looked so small.

 _Your fault_ , his conscious snapped at him.

"Micah?" He said gently, his voice no longer muffled by the mask. Michael's head jerked.

"Jeremy?" His voice was so quiet, disbelieving. "Jeremy!"

Before Jeremy could react, Michael was tackling him into a hug.

"Whoa!" Jeremy laughed, stumbling backwards a little. Michael could be real aggressive with his hugs. "Hey, man!" He wrapped his arms around his friend, chuckling softly. "Didja miss me?"

Michael pulled back, ending the hug as quickly as it had begun.

"Where were you?!" He all be screamed. "You said you'd be right with me, and then you just disappear?! I asked Christine what happened, she said she didn't know where you'd gone, and I looked everywhere in the crowd but I couldn't find you and I tried to go back inside and get someone to help but no one would listen and-!" He took a breath. "Where were you?"

Jeremy sighed.

"I'm sorry, Micah." He said softly. "I was trying to help, but I, uh, I tripped! Yeah, I tripped. Over one of the podiums. A-and I was out cold, like, like, uh - yeah! But when I woke up, uh, everyone was gone! And then I heard people coming so - so I hid! 'Cause, y'know, people. And then the cops found me, a-and they asked me a bunch of questions about what happened, and then SpiderMan came in and told me you were looking for me and snuck me out when they weren't looking!"

God damn, that was terrible, but hopefully Michael was too relieved to notice.

"Well, so long as you're okay." He smiled gently, his face warm and kind with the fondest expression on his face - okay, dial back the bisexuality, please!

"I'm glad you're okay, too, buddy." Jeremy smiled back, pulling him into another hug. Michael hummed in contentment, wrapping his arms around Jeremy's shoulders. "Didn't panic too much?"

"Uh-" Michael pulled away slightly, and smiled nervously. "I-I may have yelled at SpiderMan?"

"Michael!" Jeremy exclaimed, biting back a grin. "You what?!"

"C'mon, man!" Michael whined. "I was scared! You were missing, and no one even cared, and then SpiderMan was all 'chill out, dude, it's not like your best friend in the world is missing', and I just couldn't take it!"

"Yeah, he told me about that." Jeremy winced. He admitted it, that had been a poor choice of words at the time. "If it helps, he felt really bad about it!"

Michael frowned.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah!" Jeremy said, nodding enthusiastically. "He, uh, he wanted me to tell you he was sorry! And - and that he thought you made a really good point about the whole, uh, spreading a message idea?"

Michael's mouth twitched a little, before his eyes widened in slight panic.

"Uh." He stuttered. "H-he didn't say anything else... Right?"

Jeremy felt his stomach drop. Right. The guy Michael liked.

"Uh, no." He forced a smile. "Not at all. So..." Jeremy smirked, squeezing Michael's waist teasingly. "You were worried about me?"

"Wha - no!" Michael spluttered in his grip. "I was just scared I wouldn't get to see you embarrass yourself in your English presentation tomorrow!"

"Too far!" Jeremy squawked, slapping Michael's shoulder.

"Seriously, though." Michael smiled gently. "I'm glad you're okay."

Jeremy's stomach flipped over. He was so weak.

"Yeah." He said softly. "Me too, man. You."

Michael's smile widened as he looked up at his friend, his eyes soft and sweet and kind and god, he was so-

"Well, well, wellwellwellwellwellwell _well_!" The boys leaped away from each other to see Rich's grinning face. "What did you two get up to while I was gone?" He smirked.

"Nothing!" Jeremy squeaked. "Absolutely nothing, nothing at all!"

Michael's palm slapped into his forehead.

"Way to sound suspicious, dude."

"B-but!" Jeremy stammered."But we weren't-!"

"Dude, relax!" Rich laughed. "I'm just kidding around! Now c'mon, you can spoon when we get home."

_"We were not spooning!"_

_"For Gods sake shut up!"_

oOo

Later that night, when they decide to cope with the days events like mature, responsible adults and get stoned out of their minds, Jeremy felt himself ask, "Do you still hate SpiderMan?"

Michael frowned, looking curiously at the blunt as if it was the one who asked the question, not Jeremy.

"I don't know." He said, finally. "Like. He's still a prick. But I think I respect 'im a bit more now."

And Jeremy could live with that.


	2. Cameras, Cryptids and Keanu Reeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey! Quit being a dick!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *is in chronic pain because i had an allergic reaction to a peanut*  
> me, reading all the beautiful comments you guys left on the last chap and sobbing*: I have been Healed™
> 
> so anyways did anyone want domestic micah taking care of equally domestic jerm after a big fight well TOO BAD here it comes

"I'm telling you, man, he's got to be some kind of hybrid or something!" Michael insisted as they made their way to their lunch table.

"Hybrid?" Jeremy asked, fighting a smirk. Michael ranting about his SpiderMan theories was just so cute. "How would that work?"

"I don't know! Maybe he's part of some secret government organization. Maybe they, like, messed with his DNA or something." He gasped suddenly, and grabbed Jeremy's shoulders. _"Do you think his mom fucked a spider?!"_

"Dude!" Jeremy squealed as he collapsed into his seat. "That's so - ugh! How would that even work?"

"Tiny spider with an incredible sex drive crawls up her fallopian tubes as she sleeps." Michael said in all seriousness. "I mean, duh."

 _"Duh."_ Jeremy mimicked, dropping his voice in a poor imitation of Michael's.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?" Michael grinned wickedly. "In that case!" He cleared his throat, and said in an overly high pitched voice, "My name's Jeremy Heere, and I say 'no homo' after accidentally touching another guys arm!"

"Hey!" Jeremy squawked, his voice holding no bite. "I don't do that anymore!"

"I'm a total furry but am too much of a coward to admit it!"

"You make a Sonic OC _one_ time-"

"I'm also majorly into vore!"

"Enough!" Jeremy shrieked. "Or you get no orange today!"

Michael gasped in mock horror.

"How _dare_ you! I get your dad off your case about your healthy eating, and this is where it gets me?!"

"Greetings, hoes!" Rich cheered, sliding into a seat next to Jeremy. "How's the flirting going?"

"Rich." Michael warned.

"Fine, fine." The shorter boy held up his hands in surrender. "How's the _totally platonic banter_ going?"

"Well, Jeremy's a fuckboy furry who's into vore-"

"What else is new?"

"And he won't give me his orange."

Rich gasped, whipping his head around to face Jeremy.

"You greedy whore!" He exclaimed, scandalized. "Keeping the vitamins all to yourself while Michael starves!"

"He's eating sushi literally right in front of us-"

"Silence!" Rich turned away from him dramatically, holding a hand up to his face. "I can't even look at your right now!"

"Fine, fine." Jeremy smirked, rolling his eyes and holding out his orange. "Michael, Mr Mell, my player one and bro for eternity, will you accept my humble orange as proof of my heartfelt apology?"

Michael sniffed and wiped away a fake tear, plucking the orange from Jeremy's hand and cradling it to his chest.

"It's a start."

"So, seriously," Rich said around a mouthful of cardboard pizza. "What's up?"

"SpiderMan conspiracies, courtesy of MothMan Mell over here!" Jeremy grinned, pointing a fork in Michael's direction.

"Oh, God."

"No, come on!" Michael whined. "You guys can't just see some spider guy swooping into town one day, shooting webs out of his arms and punching bad guys, and not want an explanation!"

"SpiderMan keeps us safe." Rich shrugged. "I don't have any beef with him."

"But isn't it weird how all these mutants and shit only started causing trouble after he turned up?"

"He keeps us safe." Rich repeated. "That's good enough for me."

Michael slumped his face on his hand, squishing his cheek adorably.

"Fine. At least my Tumblr cult will appreciate what I have to say."

"I'm sure they will, Micah." Jeremy smiled. Anyone who didn't appreciate Michael could kindly fuck off.

"Hey, Mell."

Speaking of which...

Jake Dillinger stood over the trio, his bright red jacket and fluorescent bag burning Jeremy's eyes. He grabbed his plastic fork and looked at Michael nervously. He wouldn't actually try to hurt anyone, but Jake was tall and, yknow, healthy, so it would probably be best to have one advantage.

"Yeah?" Michael said carefully, eyes narrowed.

"I, uh," Jake stumbled uncharacteristically over his words. "I wanted to apologize? I was kind of a dick the other day."

"Kind of?" Michael glowered. Jeremy silently prayed for his well being.

"I _was_ a dick." Jake corrected, voice tense. "No kind of. You got freaked out over your friend, I get it."

Michael rose an eyebrow, and Jeremy could tell they were thinking the same thing. _Do you really?_

"So, yeah. Sorry." He made to walk away from their table, but stopped once he saw Rich. "Hey. Goranski, right?"

"Uh - yeah!" Rich smiled, his face tinting red. "We have chemi- _chemistry_ together."

He pushed hard on chemistry, keeping his lisp from slipping through. Jeremy and Michael glanced at each other knowingly.

"Tight." Jake grinned. "See ya!"

" _Chemistry_ , huh?" Michael grinned, once Jake was out of ear shot. 

"Shut up." Rich said quickly, suddenly very interested in his inedible pizza.

"You're blushing!" Jeremy gasped. "The great Rich Goranski has a crush!"

"Shut up!" He repeated, a smile spreading over his face. "Holy shit, did that happen?! Jake Dillinger apologized and talked to me?"

"Doesn't he talk to you anyways?" Michael frowned.

"Well, yeah, but only if we're partnered up in chem and he has to! This was, like, _voluntarily_!"

"Dude, chill." Michael smirked. "You're getting bisexuality all over the table."

"Um!" Jeremy said quickly, and way too loud. "Actually, um, that kinda reminds me of something?"

"Jeremy, if you say no homo, I swear to God-"

"Not that!" He snapped at Rich. "A different thing!"

"Spill, dude." Michael smiled. Jeremy's brain short-circuited for a second. God damn, how did he not realise this crush sooner?

"I, um." He mumbled. "I-I think...  _I'm..._ bi?"

The few moments of silence felt like an eternity. Jeremy could hear his heart pulsing in his ears.

"Seriously?" Rich asked. Jeremy held back a wince.

"Yeah... I mean, I'm pretty sure?"

A grin spread across Rich's face.

"Bro!" He cheered, yanking Jeremy into a side-hug. "We're bi buddies!"

Jeremy finally breathed.

"Y-yeah!" He chuckled breathily. "I guess so!"

He glanced across the table warily. Michael still hadn't said anything. He was just standing there, an orange segment almost to his mouth, eyes wide and staring. Jeremy shivered.

"Um." He said quietly. "Micah?"

"What?" Michael jolted out of his trance. "Uh, yeah, man, that's - that's awesome!" He grinned. "Congratulations!"

Jeremy grinned back, raising an eyebrow.

"Congratulations?"

"Oh - shut up!" Michael laughed. "When I came out to you, you gave me a 'no homo' fist bump!"

Rich cackled, knocking Jeremy's shoulder.

"Guys, this is so cool!" He squealed, bouncing in his seat. "We're like, a squad now, we're-" He gasped suddenly. _"We're the three muskequeers!!"_

 _"Holy shit that's amazing!"_ Michael yelled, slamming his hand on the table. "We've gotta make a patch for that, man!"

"Or pins!"

"Or hats!"

As Michael and Rich discussed what kind of LGBT merch they were going to make, Jeremy couldn't help but smile and wonder how he became friends with the coolest people in the world.

oOo

After a lot of hugs and cheering and promises to scope out hot people at some football game with Rich, Jeremy finally managed to get home, change and set off on patrol.

Patrol, while dangerous, was also fun as hell. Flying through the air, the wind sending a thrilling chill down his spine, he was on top of the world! Nothing could bring him down! Well, except for the occasional bad guy with a projectile, but that'd only happened a few times and Jeremy liked to think his surprise landings were getting better.

At least, they were, until some bleeping little pill-thing latched onto his suit and blasted him out of the air.

He blindly shot out a bunch of webs, clumsily catching himself in a poorly constructed web-net that dangled precariously just a few feet off the ground of the alley. His breath rushed out of his lungs and he let his body go lax.

And then he was thrown into the wall of a strip club.

"It's not very wise to let your guard down so soon after an attack, spider boy."

If it hadn't hurt so much, Jeremy would've groaned.

"You again?" He choked, brick dust clogging his lungs. "Didn't you do enough damage at the Dillinger building?"

"You mean where I metaphorically but almost literally destroyed you?" The James Bond Keanu Reeves creep smirked, landing the stolen glider a couple feet away from him.

"Jesus fucking..." SpiderMan muttered. This guy was quite possibly the most pretentious villain he'd ever faced. "What do you want? 'Cause I'm pretty sure beating me up in an alleyway's a little risky for you."

"Like breaking into the main headquarters of a multi-million dollar company?"

"Are you going to fight me or not?!" Jeremy snapped.

"No." He said simply. "And I hadn't meant to before, either. This is just business, as was the incident at the Dillinger Inc building."

"Business?" The vigilante raised an eyebrow, but it was hidden by his mask.

"Yes. Business." The man said, stepping off the stolen glider and striding towards him with power. Now that he was closer, Jeremy could make out a faint, almost geometric blue pattern beneath his right eye. "I knew your mutation was strong, but I didn't think of how resilient it could be."

"What - what does that mean?" Jeremy wheezed, his chest contracting painfully.

"You'll figure it out eventually." The Keanu Reeves knock off smiled. It looked unnatural. "I'm still not a hundred percent certain yet, but I felt that you should know about this little experiment - well, _observation_. It's just unfair, otherwise."

"Okay, well, that is super vague and not at all reassuring -"

"It wasn't supposed to be." The man sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just try to act natural to keep it a fair test, and if you feel any..." He waved his hand vaguely. " _Strange_ things happening to you, just... lean into it."

" _Lean into it?!_ When did I agree to be your lab rat, here?!"

The guy's smile widened, carving it's way up his face and making his eyes narrow menacingly.

"You didn't. But you will." Keanu Reeves evil twin took another step forward, grabbing SpiderMan by the neck and holding him firmly against the wall, his toes just brushing the ground. "Because you wouldn't want anything to happen to your dear friends, would you, _Jeremy_?"

Jeremy choked.

No. _No._ He couldn't know, it wasn't possible, he was so careful, he couldn't have known Jeremy was missing during the attack, why would he know anything about him, or his class or the field trip, what was he going to do to him, to his dad, to Rich, to Christine, to-

"Hey!"

A fairly large stone slammed into the man's face.

"Stop being a dick!"

 _Please,_ Jeremy prayed. _Please don't be._

It was.

Michael stood tall in the entrance of the alley, a phone in one hand, a camera in the other and a bunch of gravel stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

As the million-pound sack of  _dicktips_ whipped his head around to face him, the camera flashed.

"I've got you on camera, shitwad!" He yelled. "And I've got nine-one-one already dialed!" Rage pooled in his eyes, along with a hint of daring. "Your move."

Ke-asshole Reeves rolled his eyes.

"Always so dramatic." He muttered under his breath, letting Jeremy fall to the ground. "I'll be keeping an eye on you." He informed, his mouth curving into a wicked smirk. "So just act natural, okay?"

He climbed back on to the stolen glider and flew away, his tacky Matrix trenchcoat flapping in the wind.

Once he was gone, Jeremy groaned from the floor. Everything hurt, his arm, his back, his throat, his head - God, his head. It was swarming. Too much, too much.

Michael. Needed to keep Michael safe. He was there, he'd been right there, threatening that guy, not knowing what kind of danger he was already in because he knew. The guy knew, he knew who Jeremy was, he knew who his friends were, his family, he'd hurt them, hurt them all-

"Hey!" Jeremy barely registered Michael's concerned voice above him. "Yo, spider guy!"

"'ts Spider _Man_." He grumbled halfheartedly.

"Whatever," Michael huffed, shaking his head and tugging the vigilante to his feet, hooking the Jeremy's uninjured arm over his shoulder. "You gotta get moving, man, we're taking you to a hospital."

That woke him up.

"No!" SpiderMan said, suddenly serious. "No hospitals."

"Yes, hospitals!" Michael snapped. "There's a you-sized dent in the wall!"

"No hospitals." He repeated firmly. "I have a safe house a couple streets over, just take me around there and I'll patch myself up."

Michael furrowed his brow, the way he did when they were playing a tough level of Apocalypse of The Damned, weighing the pros and cons, advantages and disadvantages, thinking up every outcome and prepared to take goddamn notes.

"Fine." He said, finally. "But I'll treat you. My mom's a nurse, I know this stuff."

SpiderMan frowned under the mask. He wanted to argue, but it was pointless to do that when Michael had his mind set to something. And he was kinda right about the whole nurse thing. Jeremy only really knew how to clean up his cuts and scrapes, he didn't know squat about setting bones or anything. He just kind of, bandaged them up and hoped for the best.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked instead. "I kinda got the impression you didn't like me."

"I don't." Michael growled. "But... you got my friend back." His glare softened and his voice relaxed slightly. "So I kinda owe you one."

The stumbled in silence through the dark streets, making sure to stick to the shadows so Jeremy could stay unnoticed.

"You could've just let me web-sling there, yknow."

"With that arm? You're dumber than I thought."

"Mean." He sniffed. "Hey." Something wasn't adding up. Michael would never willingly leave his house, unless it was to go to Jeremy's, or to go to school (though that was usually met with a lot of complaint and reluctance). "What were you doing out so late anyways?"

"Um." Michael's ears tinted red. "I - uh -"

"Aww!" The injured boy crooned. "Do I have a fanboy?"

"Shut up!" Michael snapped. "I - I was -" He sighed. "Yknow the Daily Bugle?"

"You mean the guys who started an anti-me campaign because they claimed I was a 'no good freak looking for trouble and endangering our society'?" Jeremy huffed, glowering at the floor. "Nope, never heard of 'em."

Michael sort of laughed. An almost laugh, one of those laughs in disguise, that sounded like a cough or a strong exhale that people made when they felt like laughing but didn't want to.

"Yeah, well. They have this offer." He looked down guiltily. "If I bring in pictures of SpiderMan, I'll get a good reward."

Jeremy gaped.

"Seriously?!" He'd known Michael wasn't the biggest fan of SpiderMan, but this was insanely low for him. "You're selling me out for some extra lunch money?!"

"It's not for me!" Michael snapped back. "It's for my friend!"

That shut him up.

"My friend Jeremy," The taller boy sighed after a moment of silence. "Yknow, the one from the other day? He needs help."

Jeremy felt himself wilt inside.

"What d'you mean?" He asked gently.

"He-" Michael sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna spill all his personal crap to you, 'cause that's a dick move but -" He ran a hand through his hair, the streetlights framing his face and catching on his glasses. "There's _something_. Something he isn't telling me, I don't know what it is, but. He's always tried doing things by himself, yknow? And - and I can respect that, he always talks to me if things get too much, but now he isn't."

Jeremy's insides twisted.

"He isn't sleeping right." Michael continued. "He's all - spacey, and stuff. And he comes to school with these bruises in weird places - he keeps telling me he tripped or whatever, but no one trips that much, that hard! I just-" He deflated, the dim lighting making him look so much more tired. "I want to help him. But I can't. So, I was thinking, if I got some money for him, he might look into therapy, or counselling or whatever. _Something._ "

He was killing him. He was killing Michael already, before he'd even put him in danger. He worked so hard for Jeremy, trying to help him, and Jeremy just - just lied to him, every single day!

"Maybe he doesn't want you to worry about him so much?"

Michael looked at him the same way he and Rich looked at Michael whenever he suggested a particularly far-fetched conspiracy.

"He's my best friend." He said slowly. "I'm always going to worry about him."

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Look, no offence? But I don't really want to vent all my and my friends personal shit to _you._ "

Yeah, that sounded about right.

oOo

By the time they reached the safe house, Jeremy's feet felt like they were splitting, and Michael was panting from doing most of the heavy lifting. At least his body had started healing the minor injuries, which was good. Along with his stickiness, strength and spidey-sense, the spider bite had also granted him some sick healing abilities.

"This it?" Michael asked, nodding at the large abandoned warehouse in front of them.

"Yup. The doors are boarded up, but I can let us in."

Before Michael could protest, Jeremy leaped up and started scaling the wall, his bruised ankle and damaged arm screaming in protest.

"What are you doing?!" Michael yelled from below. "Do you want to break the rest of your body?!"

"Can you climb up to the roof and jump twenty five feet from a broken window? No? Then quit it with the noise!"

He could faintly make out Michael grumbling beneath him, but chose to ignore it.

"My liege!" He grinned mockingly once he'd reached the ground and unboarded the door, bowing in an over-the-top 'after you' gesture. Michael rolled his eyes, though he didn't look too annoyed.

"Sweet pad, dude. Tell me, is it possible to catch an STD from the ghost of a dead hooker?"

"Shut up and get my supplies from under the pile."

"Which one?"

"The big one!"

"More specific please?"

"Jesus - the one with the couch cushion with the weird stain!"

"Roger doger." Michael saluted. "How many people dumped their stuff here?"

"No idea. Probably a pack of Rabbids?"

Michael snorted.

"Rabbids Go Home fan, huh?"

"It's a good game!"

" _Great_ game. Sit!" Michael ordered, looking through Jeremy's first-aid kit. "Okay, this should do. Shirt?"

"Jeez, at least buy me a drink first!" At Michael's flat expression, Jeremy sighed and shrugged off the top part of his suit. "Screw you, that was funny."

Michael winced when Jeremy took off his suit, and Jeremy couldn't really blame him. He probably looked like ass.

"God damn, what'd that guy do to you?"

"Well," Jeremy hummed, counting on his fingers. "First, he shot me down with a bomb-thingy, and then he blasted me into a wall, talked a bunch of weird cryptic shit and, for the grand finale, strangled me. So yeah it's not too bad."

"Har, har." Michael rolled his eyes. "This is serious, dude. You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

"Well, that's pretty understandable - _holy-!"_

"What?!" Jeremy shrieked, craning his neck back. "Is it bad?!"

"No, it's, uh-" Michael glanced from Jeremy's back, to him, and back again. "Your skin just kinda... Stuck itself back together?"

"Oh." Jeremy sighed, relieved. "Yeah, it does that sometimes."

"It _what?!"_ Michael spluttered. "What does that mean?!"

"What, no, don't yell!" Jeremy flailed. "It just - it just does that? Like my powers - I guess healing's one of them?"

"How is healing a spider thing?!"

"I don't know!! I'm kinda just improvising here?!"

"Wow, so the protector of our city is just improvising as he goes?" Michael scoffed. "Damn, I feel safe."

"Hey!" Jeremy snapped. "I'd like to see you beat up as many bad guys as I have!"

"Hah, please." Michael rolled his eyes. "You're a noodle, I'm _thicc_."

Something about his tone made Jeremy know he said it with two 'c's.

"Well, I maybe be a noodle, but I'm a _super powered_ noodle, so I think I'm a little more tough than - _mother fuckbutter, **why**!?"_

"Sorry!" Michael cried. "I-I thought if I just disinfected it while you were distracted it wouldn't hurt as much?"

"S'fine, it's fine." Jeremy hissed through his teeth. "Actually a lot better than what I do. I keep on telling myself I'm gonna do it and then stop at the last minute. It's a vicious cycle."

"Poor Spidey." Michael said playfully. "Okay, you have a couple scrapes and stuff, but I don't think you'll stitches, which is pretty good, 'cause I suck at stitching shit."

Liar. Michael could sew a leaf back on to a tree, he just hated needles. Well, needles going into peoples skin. He claimed it was normal, because _things are not supposed to go in your skin, Jeremy!_ but it was still funny.

"Cool. Am I free to go, Doc?"

"Y'aint getting off that easy, Spidey." Michael said with no bite. "I've still gotta check for any broken bones and bandage up your cuts and shit."

"Fine, but never say 'y'aint' again or I'll web you to the Empire State Building."

"Dude, we live in New Jersey."

"That's how much I never want to hear you say 'y'aint' again."

"Fine." Michael sniffed. "But _y'all'd've_ better appreciate my Texas memes in the future."

"That doesn't even make sense!" Jeremy laughed. "Think about it, ' _you all would have_ better appreciate' - that's not English!"

"No, it's meme. Maybe you should start a Tumblr account, Spidey."

Just as Jeremy was about to make a clever retort about Tumblr being the site of porn and bad decisions, he felt a feather light touch on his back.

"Dude, chill." Michael said when he gasped. "'M just checking that you didn't break anything."

"Yep!" He yelped, voice tight. "Yeah, chilling!"

Michael's fingers pressed around his back, warm and gentle. Jeremy would gasp or wince occasionally, when Michael brushed over a particularly large bruise, but he made up for it by softly murmuring for Jeremy to relax and let him help. He should become a doctor, Jeremy though absentmindedly. His bedside manner was amazing.

And his hands were really warm.

"Okay," Michael hummed finally, brushing down Jeremy's right arm one last time. "Looks like you haven't done anything too bad. How's the leg?"

"It'd probably hurt a lot more if it were broken."

"And your head?"

"I've got a thick skull."

"Ah, we finally agree on something!" Michael chuckled. "Lemme just wrap you up real quick."

"Kinky."

"The bandages, dumbass."

As Michael carefully wrapped the bandages around his waist and shoulders, Jeremy couldn't help but feel as if the roles had been reversed. Normally it was Jeremy who was the serious (well, less reckless) one, stopping Michael and Rich doing silly things and rolling his eyes at their antics. But as SpiderMan, he felt more... Brave. Confident. He could say whatever, do whatever, within reason, because for a few brief moments, he wasn't shy, awkward Jeremy Heere. He was a hero.

"Here we go..." Michael mumbled, tying the last bandage securely. "And donezo!"

"Does this mean I get a lollipop?" Jeremy asked, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

"Sorry, Spidey, only good kids get their lollipops!" Michael grinned, sticking out his tongue, which Jeremy did not notice because Jeremy definitely did not have an unhealthy fixation with Michael's mouth, or lips, or tongue, no sir, no thank you, no gay thoughts in this Christian New Jersey hell town!

"Rude!" SpiderMan huffed. "I am the _best_ kid. The _mightiest_ kid."

"The _dumbest_ kid."

_"Rude!"_

Michael laughed. A real laugh, not disguised by a cough or breath.

"I guess you were a good patient." He smiled, his eyes soft and fond. "Here," he tossed him a pack of gum from his hoodie pocket. "Treat yo' self."

Jeremy whistled, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. "I could get used to having a nurse!"

"That's _doctor_ to you, spider guy!"

"Right, right." Jeremy giggled as he tugged on the top part of his suit. "Well." He nodded at the broken window. "Duty calls."

"Oh - yeah!" Something Jeremy couldn't quite place flickered in his eyes. "Yeah. I'll be heading home, then."

"Hey, wait up!" Jeremy pulled Michael close and nabbed his camera, angling his arm awkwardly and flipping off the lens as it flashed. He grinned as he handed it back. "I'm sure the Daily Bugle'll love this."

"And, by the way." Jeremy added gently. "I think you should try talking to your friend. I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but I don't think he'd like you giving him money. I mean, if it were me-" ha ha, thanks, life. "I'd kinda feel like a charity case, and I don't know about you, but I hate that. So just... Just talk to him, yeah? Let him know you're there. Take your time. I'm sure he wants your help, he probably just... Doesn't know how to ask for it."

Michael looked at him with something... _something_ , in his eyes. He looked at his camera and smiled.

"Yknow," He said softly. "You're not so bad, Spidey."

"Yeah?" Jeremy smiled, feeling all gooey and soft inside. "You too, dude. Well!" He stretched his arms above his head. "I've got a city to patrol and bad guys to punch, so." He shot a web to the roof. "See ya, Doctor Mell! Remember to lock up after you!"

It was only after he was a quarter way back to his house when he realised that SpiderMan wasn't supposed to know Michael's last name.

oOo

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**been kinda worried about u lately. if u wanna talk, im here. hope ur doing okay buddy :)**

**[begonedepresh.jpg]**

**but if u dont wanna, then heres spiderman flipping off all ur bad feelings.**

**ily bro. dont forget that, k?**

**gnight**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mICHAEL MAKES AN EEEENTRAAAANCEEEE
> 
> also did you guys appreciate all the nicknames i made for the squip
> 
> thats the only part of this chap i'm proud of
> 
> ALSO RABIDS GO HOME IS AMAZING FUCK OFF


	3. It's Not Gay If You Repress Your Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh my God." Rich grinned, his eyes widening in delight. "You like him!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this one's a little shorter than the others. it's kinda just a filler piece to cover up some plotholes that might've come up in later chapters.

Sometimes Jeremy wondered if he was cut out for heroing. Sure, punching bad guys all well and good, and he liked giving the people of his town hope and peace of mind, but... Could he really be considered a hero when the ring of his own alarm clock made him want to shoot himself in the face?

Blindly, he reached for the obnoxious beeping, misjudged his swing and slapped his alarm clock into a wall. He winced at the _snap_ of plastic and glass shattering, and cursed his stupid spider strength. He could've gotten invisibility, or flight, but _no_ , he got to be a glorified insect man.

Groaning at his sore muscles and bruised up back, he forced himself out of bed and stretched, his spine popping satisfyingly. He tugged off the bandages Michael had (carefully gently lovingly) wrapped around his body last night and checked himself in the mirror. A couple of light bruises had remained, but the rest had healed up nicely and his cuts and scrapes were all gone.

He yawned, stretched again, rolled his arms once, twice, and went to change and grab his stuff. As he grabbed his phone from where he'd left it charging, he quickly checked his notifications.

**5 Messages from; PlayerOneMell**

_"Shit."_ Jeremy hissed, opening his contacts, but the panic in his chest quickly subsided into the warm, fluttery feeling he got whenever Michael did _anything_ because _oh my god he was so nice and such a good friend and what did Jeremy do to deserve someone as cool as him?!_

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**thanks, man. yeah i know i've been kinda weird lately but i promise it's nothing. it's just something i'm dealing with rn. i'll tell you when i'm ready, but that might take a while. it's kinda complicated. thanks for always being there, you're my favourite person :) ily 2 bro**

**sidenote, how the fuck did you get a pic of spiderman??? thought you hated him?**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**holy shit dude its way too weird and long to type tell u at school?**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**fine but it'd better be super weird you've already set the bar man**

Jeremy grinned once the text sent, checking the photo one last time. It wasn't good, far from it, really. Michael was a much better photographer than he was, but he didn't really do it that often. The picture was a little blury, and the angle made it so that part of the top of SpiderMan's head had been cut out and you could only see half of Michael's body. It was nice, though. Most of the frame was filled by SpiderMan flipping off the camera, which was still pretty funny, but what made Jeremy's stomach flip was Michael's face in the corner. Although his face was towards the camera, his eyes had drifted towards SpiderMan. He looked a little shocked at being yanked into the photo, but his mouth had curved into a small, soft smile, like when someone bought him a patch or when Jeremy hugged him tight on his bad days.

_"Y'know... You're not so bad, Spidey."_

Jeremy smiled and hugged the picture to his chest quickly, then continuing his morning get-ready rush.

"Mornin', kiddo!" His dad greeted loudly from downstairs. Jeremy took in his robe, pajama shirt and lack of pants and groaned internally. It was one of those days again.

"Morning, dad." He mumbled, grabbing a granola bar from the cupboard. "I thought we talked about decency?"

"Ah, c'mon, Jermy!" His dad laughed, swinging an arm over Jeremy shoulders. Jeremy slunk out of his reach. "We're all men in this house! Pretend we're in the army!"

"They wear _pants_ in the army." Jeremy grumbled. "I gotta go. Bye."

"But, kiddo, the bus won't come for another fifteen-"

He was already out the door.

oOo

"So then he's all, 'I don't think you should be showing off that kind of lifestyle, young man', and I'm like, bro?! First off, it's just a patch, and second, tell me why straight couples can practically dry hump in the hallways but when _I_ wear a pride patch, it's too inappropriate for your precious Republican eyes!"

Jeremy loved it when Michael told stories.

He was a natural born storyteller. Whenever they played video games, Michael was the one reading the narrations and NPC texts. He just got so into it, gesturing wildly and doing scarily accurate voices (seriously, he could be a sick impressionist), and everything from his tone to his little comments were just so funny that Jeremy and Rich were usually in stitches before he finished telling them what the story was even about.

"Damn." Jeremy laughed. "Did you actually say that?"

"W-well, not really." Michael grinned sheepishly. "I thought of it after. I actually just flipped him off and told him to go suck a cock.

"Still a pretty solid comeback. I mean, all homophobes are secretly gay."

"Very true. One time, my cousin Davey's friend Jack was being a total dick at his Bar Mitsvah because he found out I was gay, but then he and Davey disappeared for a while and when we found them, they were _totally_ -!"

He was cut off by his slushie tipping the edge of the lunch table.

"Jesus, fucker-!" Michael yelped, his fingers _just_ grazing the side of the cup before it fell to the ground, pink and blue splattering across the cafeteria floor like a sugary crimescene. "Rich!" He snapped. "You're wobbling the whole table, man!"

"Sorry!" Rich squeaked apologetically, forcing himself to stop bouncing his leg. "Sorry, dude. Really. I'm just kinda out of it today."

"Really?" Michael rose a skeptical eyebrow. "'Cause you've been twitchy all day, bro. You're like a crackhead waiting for his next fix, what gives?"

"Oh, well-!" Rich smiled, embarrassed. "I-I, uh - I'm kinda craving Mountain Dew right now?"

Michael gaped.

"You sacrificed my _innocent slushie_ because you wanted some gross gamer hell-drink?!" He glared. "You treacherous fucker!"

"Come on, man!" The shorter boy whined, reaching across the table to paw at Michael's hoodie sleeve. "It's real bad! I can't even think about anything else, I'm _craving_ , dude!"

"That's... kinda weird, man." Jeremy frowned. "You okay?"

"No!" Rich groaned. "I couldn't focus in any of my classes this morning 'cause I was thinking about Mountain Dew, it's - it's freaking me out, guys!"

"Well," Michael grinned. "I know a guy at Spencers Gifts who's hooking me up with a case of Mountain Dew Red after school tomorrow! Can you wait till then?"

"I thought you just said Mountain Dew was gross?" Jeremy frowned.

"Well, yeah, but this is nineties Mountain Dew, so it's awesome." He shrugged. "Whaddya say, Richie? Mountain Dew Red taste test tomorrow, you, me and Jer?"

"No time!" The smaller boy whimpered pitifully. "I'll just get some after school."

Michael rolled his eyes, ruffling Rich's hair affectionately.

"Look, if it means that much to you, I'll head down to Sev Elev and score you some Mountain Dew."

"Really?" Rich grinned hopefully.

"Yeah, man. But you're paying me back for it. And my slushie!"

 _"Thaaank_ you, Michael!" Rich drawled as he left the cafeteria.

Michael flipped him off.

"Love you, too, bro!"

"Jesus." Jeremy whistled as Rich's leg started bouncing subconsciously again. "You're really jonesing for that Mountain Dew, huh?"

"I can't help it! It's been on my brain all day!"

"How is a drink on your brain?"

"I don't _know_!" Rich slumped on the table. "I mean, literally everybody I've seen today's had a bottle of it in their bag or on their desk, I dunno. Maybe that's why."

Jeremy frowned. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure Chloe had been drinking some when he saw her yelling at Brooke for some reason. And Jake had been doing the bottle flip challenge earlier with a suspiciously green bottle.

"Hm. Guess so." He hummed. "Weird."

They sat in silence for a while. Jeremy felt like he should've said something, but Rich looked about ready to burst into flames and Jeremy didn't want to overwhelm him.

"Hey." Rich said after a while, his leg bouncing rapidly. "How's the Christine thing going?"

The Christine thing had been Michael and Rich's way of referring to his silly crush without embarrassing Jeremy too much. Even then, he'd hated the word 'crush'. It just made it seem so... _dumb_. Childish, really. Now, he hated it because it wasn't enough. What he felt now wasn't just some highschool crush, it was bigger, all consuming, it was-

"I don't know." He mumbled. "I, um. Haven't really thought of her lately?"

"Oh?" Rich hummed. "'Cause, uh. My sources tell me you don't like her anymore."

Jeremy glanced at him through narrowed eyes.

"Your sources being Michael?"

Rich looked away, feigning an innocent expression.

"Y'aint subtle, dude."

 _"Y'aint?"_ Rich barked a laugh. "Jesus, where'd that come from?"

"Um." Jeremy said, like a genius. "I dunno. Meme-ing?"

"Ah. Michael. I should've known." The shorter boy nodded to himself. "Yeah, he told me. Don't be mad! I'm just kinda confused?"

"There's nothing to be confused about!" Jeremy huffed, trying not to get too defensive. "I-I just - when I went on that date with Christine it felt like - like friends hanging out, yknow? It wasn't anything... Special? No, that sounds mean. I-It just - it didn't feel like this groundbreaking thing I built it up to be, yknow? And while we were walking around, I guess I just figured that, as much fun as Christine is to talk to and, and be with, she wasn't someone I wanted to... _be_. With." He scratched his elbow. "Does that make sense?"

"Sort of." Rich nodded. "So... If you like being with her, but you don't want to _be_ with her, then... Is there anyone you _do_ want to _be_ with?"

"I-I dunno!" He spluttered. "I guess - I-I guess if I were gonna be someone, it'd be someone who - who I know, a-and who knew me, like, _really_ knew me, and shared some of my interests but still managed to, um, challenge me, I guess? Like, we could bounce off each other, yknow? Someone who, even if we hadn't seen each other in _years_ , it felt like we only saw each other yesterday. Someone I'm comfortably with, someone who, uh..."

He trailed off, smiling gently.

"... You done with your fantasy there, buddy?" Rich smirked.

"Uh!" Jeremy jolted. "What, I, um - I-I just meant-"

"Oh, come _on_!" Rich cackled, nodding his head in the direction Michael had left. "Could you want him more?"

"What?!" Jeremy spluttered. "What, n-no, that's - that's not what I meant at all! Michael's my, my best friend, I would _never_ -"

" _Y'aint_ subtle, bro." Rich mocked. He was clearly enjoying this. "You make heart-eyes at the guy every damn day, you think I make fun of you guys just 'cause it's funny?"

Jeremy just looked at him, one brow raised.

"Okay, well, yeah, that's one reason, but it's also because you guys are just so _obvious!"_

"N-no I'm not!" Jeremy squeaked.

"Oh, come _on!"_ Rich laughed. "You look at him like he hung the fucking stars, dude, you're _hopeless_ , and everyone in a five mile radius knows it!"

Jeremy paled.

"They do?" He said weakly. Thankfully, Rich picked up on his discomfort almost immediately.

"Oh, no, dude, I didn't mean like _that_!" He smiled gently. "I mean, I definitely noticed, and Jenna's gaydar is the best I've ever seen, but there's no way Michael knows. He's dense as fuck, dude."

"Well, that's good... I guess."

"So..." Rich murmured. "You gonna do anything about it?"

Jeremy sighed, resting his elbows on the table and holding his face in both hands.

"Rich, you don't _tell_ your crush you _like_ them. That's, like, insane."

"So what?" Rich frowned. "You're just gonna run from your feelings like a little bitch?"

" _No_ ," Jeremy corrected. "I'm going to stuff my feelings down and repress them like a little asshole. Totally different."

"Sounds pretty sucky."

"Oh, it most definitely is." Jeremy nodded. "But it's better than actually facing your feelings head on."

"That's sad."

"Yep."

Rich looked at Jake's table and sighed.

"We're sad."

"We really are."

They slipped back into silence, sighing occasionally just to remind each other that, yes, they were depressed as hell. It was comforting, in a super weird, upsetting way.

"What up, my dudes!" Michael crowed as he sunk back into his seat. He tossed a green bottle at Rich. "I come bearing gifts!"

"You are my hero!" Rich beamed before chugging the bottle, any trace of his previous sadness wiped away.

"I know." Michael grinned. "And, for the Jer-bear here!"

Jeremy flinched as a long plastic packet was thrown at his face, flailing his arms around and somehow managing to catch it.

"Nice one, bro."

"Hey! I didn't ask to be this noodley!" Jeremy snapped with no real bite, and checked the little packet. "Holy shit, is this-?"

"Fuck yeah, dude!" Michael grinned. "There was this little stall selling temporary tattoos, and I remembered you saying you wanted to get a little Pac-Man when you were older, so."

Jeremy smiled softly at the fake tattoo. It looked like it was supposed to go down his arm or along his waist or something, a little Pac-Man at the beginning, a line of white dots and little pink ghost at the end. He unwrapped it carefully, as if it were the most precious thing he'd ever touched, and ripped the little sheet clean in half.

"Wh- dude!" Michael spluttered. "I spent, like, a dollar on that!"

"Here, idiot!" Jeremy rolled his eyes, shoving the Pac-Man half into Michael's hands. "Then I can have the ghost, and we can match."

Michael looked from him to the tattoo sheet, his mouth twitching into a surprised smile.

"You - God, you're so -" He chuckled softly. "You're an idiot."

Jeremy felt his chest warm at Michael's fond tone.

"Aww!" Rich crooned, turning to the empty seat beside him. "C'mere, honey - oh, that's right." He sighed, turning back to them and his empty bottle of Mountain Dew. "I'm alone."

"Aw, Richie!" Michael said gently. "I'm sorry, man - I got you one, too, look!"

He pushed a little plastic square across the table, and Rich's face burst into a grin.

"Holy _shit_ you're amazing!" He gasped, tearing open the little packet to reveal a little smiley star with the words 'hey now, you're an all-star' printed along the bottom. "Oh my god. I love you so much, holy shit."

"Love you, too, Richie." Michael grinned. "And we both love Jeremy!"

"Yeah, we do!" Rich cheered, pulling Jeremy into a side-hug. "Bi buddies for life, right, Jerm!"

"Bi buddies for life!" Jeremy nodded. "And I love you guys too."

"Aww!" Michael smiled, his cheeks tinted a bit pink. "What a wonderful moment!"

"A _wonderful_ moment!" Rich echoed. "Okay, this is the rule, now. You wanna be in the queer squad, you need a cheesy fake tattoo. That's, like, the initiation ceremony."

"Yeah, sure." Jeremy smirked. "'Cause all the cool kids will be lining up to join our cool gay club and get a sweet sponge-on tattoo."

"Yeah, they will!"

"Rich, when you play along with my sarcasm, it ruins my enjoyment of it."

"I'm aware."

The trio laughed together, looking at their little tattoo sheets fondly.

"So," Michael smiled, tucking his half of the Pac-Man tattoo into his bag carefully. "What'd you guys talk about while I was gone?"

"Eh, yknow." Rich smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes. He glanced at Jeremy and Michael, then Jake's table, and back to them. "Just stuff."

Jeremy looked at him sympathetically, nudging Rich's leg with his own under the table. Rich shot him a small smile, and turned back to Michael.

"So, anything interesting happen on your Spidey stalking last night?"

Michael froze like a deer in headlights, his face flushing slightly

"Spidey stalking?" Jeremy frowned. Rich made it sound like a regular thing. How long had Michael been doing this, exactly?

"He's been sneaking out in the middle of the night when his mom's are working so he can take creepy pictures of SpiderMan." Rich clarified. "It's like, his thing, now."

"Michael!" Jeremy squawked. "That's so dangerous! What if you'd gotten hurt?"

"Dude, relax!" Michael yelped, waving his hands in a 'calm down' motion. "It's fine, really! He does this patrol thing every night, I just go to this old skate park he stops at and take some pictures. I've only done it, like, three times and I'm always home by midnight, latest!"

"Still!" Jeremy insisted. He frowned then, acting ignorant. "Wait, is that where you got that picture of SpiderMan?"

"Whoa, _what?!"_ Rich all but yelled. "You told me all the pictures you got were shitty!"

"They _were_! I can't help it, the guy moves way too fast!"

"So what's with the one you sent me?" Jeremy tried not to grin. This was way too fun.

"Okay, well..." Michael fidgeted with his hoodie. "It's kind of a long story..."

Jeremy was there last night. He hadn't dreamed it up, or missed any important scenes, he was there for all of it. And yet, he still loved listening to Michael re-tell it in his little narrator voice, gesturing wildly and making little comments and anecdotes here and there. He obviously exaggerated the fight in the alley and playfully complained about SpiderMan’s antics, though Jeremy, in his totally-not-biased opinion, had thought it was pretty charming (at least Rich agreed with him). He left out the parts about how he'd fixed Jeremy up, tied bandages around his waist and tossed him some gum afterwards because of what a good patient he'd been, and he thankfully didn't seem to remember Jeremy's little slip-up at the end, but he kept some of the other good parts, too. Like SpiderMan's silly flirting that he 'was only doing to be annoying' (Jeremy tried not to eyeroll too hard) or his 'goddamn stubbornness' when it came to his injuries.

"And then he webbed off and I went home." Michael finished with a small smile. "It was kinda nice."

"Oh my _God_." Rich grinned, his eyes widening in delight. "You _like_ him!"

"What?!" Michael spluttered, accidentally kicking Jeremy under the table. "Oh - sorry, man!"

"'S fine!" Jeremy squeaked. "So, uh, Rich, you were saying?"

"He wasn't saying anything-!"

"You _like_ him!" Rich crowed, pointing at Michael accusingly. "I knew you wanted some of that spider dick! You want to him to sweep you off your feet and dramatically web-sling you into the night, don’t you?!”

"Um, _no_.” Michael glared. “Because that’s scary as hell. Who the fuck wants to be swung twenty feet above the ground with only Discount MothMan to catch you if you fall?”

 Jeremy fought a wince.

"Whatever, man!" The shorter boy laughed. "You _liiiiike_ him! Mikey and SpiderMan, sitting in a tree!"

"Oh, real fucking mature, _Richard!"_ Michael snapped. "I just think I might've misjudged him, that's all!"

 _"You love him, you love him, you really really love him!"_ Rich sang, swinging his legs to the rythm of his made-up song. _"And you're gonna get married, and have a million babies!"_

"Oh, fuck _off_!" Michael huffed. "Lunch is almost over, I'm going to Art."

"No, Mikey!" Rich whined, grabbing his hoodie sleeve. "Don't leave us!"

He sighed in an over-the-top manner, flopping back down into his seat.

"Fine. But you sluts are taste testing that Mountain Dew Red with me after school!"

Rich gagged then, doubling over and clutching his stomach and head.

"Richie?!" Jeremy placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. "A-are you okay?!"

"'M fine, it's fine." Rich grunted, shaking himself off. "Sorry, guys." He smiled sheepishly. "Felt kinda nauseous for a sec. It's cool."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah!" He nodded, waving off their concern. "But I think I'll pass on the taste-test, Michael. Sorry, bro."

"Nah, that's fine!" Michael smiled reassuringly. "So long as you're feeling okay." He turned to Jeremy. "What about you, Jerm? Wanna liven it up, nineties style?"

Jeremy felt himself gag a little. He wasn't sure why, but right now, Mountain Dew Red just sounded... Gross.

"Sorry, man." He said gently. "Not feeling it today."

Michael sighed and rested his cheek on his hand.

"Fine." He sniffed dramatically. "I'll just have it myself. Alone. All by myself-"

"Oh, shut up!" Jeremy laughed, slapping his shoulder gently. "C'mon, this way you get it all to yourself. We know how much you love that out-of-date shit."

"It's not _out of date_ , it's retro!"

"Whatever, man." He rolled his eyes. "Well!" He got up and stretched his arms. "I gotta get to Drama. Christine wanted me to come down early and help her go over some lines or something."

"Have fun, dude." Rich shot him a fingergun. "Love you, bro!"

"Love you too, dumbass." Jeremy smirked. "And you, Micah."

Michael smiled at him gently.

"Yeah. Love you too, man."

oOo

That night, once Jeremy got back from patrol, he thought about Michael holding on to him like he had at the Dillinger building, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He thought of the two of them walking through the dim streets like they had just last night, except there were no creepy villains or bruised backs. Just them, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

He fell asleep wondering what it might be like to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHA I HATE THIS SO MUCH
> 
> ooh was that some sneaky plot in there? who can tell cause i certainly can't i'm literally just making this up as i go.
> 
> platonic 'i love you's are my shit
> 
> Ugh this is so short and stupid I hate it
> 
> also extra cheese at the end because i couldn't think of a good ending I'M SORRY


	4. Keanu Fucking Reeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy woke up in the middle of the night with a pounding headache and a strange urge to jump out of his bedroom window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this one's better.
> 
> IMPORTANT THING before we begin, i should probably say that 'anne' is the turkish word for 'mother', and is pronounced 'ann-EH'. michael isn't just calling his mother anne instead of her real name. though i imagine he'd probably do that too.
> 
> also, the comments on the last three chapters almost made me fucking cry yall are fucking incredible i love you all so much thank you???????

Jeremy woke up in the middle of the night with a pounding headache and a strange urge to jump out of his bedroom window.

Well, not _actually_ jump out of his bedroom window. That was crazy. But he did want to get out of his room – not to go to school or anything weird like that, he just desperately wanted _out_. So desperately, in fact, that he didn’t even notice he only had his sleep shirt and Pac-Man boxers on until he was toeing on his shoes and sprinting out the door.

He reasoned that it was too late to go back inside now that he was already out, so he just hunched his shoulders against the cold and walked. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He just followed the want.

Eventually, after cutting through back-alleys and scrabbling over fences, he found himself on a cold beach that he could only describe as ‘greasy’. The sand wasn’t fine and powdery like it should’ve been, but clumpy and moist, like baby food or that gunky paste in the corners of windows that you couldn’t help but pick at, and the water was a murky green.

He quickly hopped over the fence that cut off the beach from the road, shivering in his ratty blue slip-ons. He really should’ve grabbed a jacket. Or some socks. His feet were all blistery.

“Ah, you’re here.”

Jeremy jumped, whipping around to see the Keanu Reeves guy who had _definitely not been there before_.

“What the fuck?!” He shrieked, jumping backwards and cursing himself for not grabbing his web shooters.

“Please calm down.” The creep said in a way that was definitely not calming. “It’ll make things so much easier.”

“Okay, you’re a grown-ass man and I’m a sixteen year old in his underwear.” Jeremy hissed. “You might want to choose another way to word that sentence!”

The Keanu copy rolled his eyes.

“So _troublesome_.” He sighed. “Just stop yelling, please? We’ve wasted enough time with how long it took you to get here.”

“How’d you even _know_ I’d be here?!”

“Do you usually wake up with a need to run outside, without even stopping to put on appropriate clothing?” The man asked. “You’re here because I said so.”

“Wait, whoa!” Jeremy gestured his arms wildly. “What, you like – _called_ me here? Like, telepathically?”

“A close comparison, though not entirely accurate.” The man turned away and started walking along the beach. “Come on. We don’t have that long until sunrise.”

“Why should I?” Jeremy growled.

“How about because you don’t have a choice?”

Just as Jeremy was about to retort, he felt the same pull in his gut from before, and his legs started moving without his permission. He made an awkward, strangled noise, trying to force himself back, but it was as if there was some invisible force pulling him in the same direction as the creepy guy.

“Don’t bother fighting it.” The man called. “Just hurry along and we can get this done quickly.”

Jeremy grumbled under his breath, giving in to the pull and letting himself be dragged behind his sort of kidnapper. Did it count as kidnapping if he was letting himself be kidnapped?

“Don’t hunch.” The man tutted. “Stand up straight. And uncross your arms, you look like a child.”

Jeremy wanted to make a smart comment about how he couldn’t do anything straight, but he felt a little out of his league here, and talking back more could result in some unsavoury consequences.

“Good.” He nodded when Jeremy did as he was told. “Do you know what I am?”

Hm. That was interesting phrasing. ‘Do you know _who_ I am’ would imply that this man was well known, and that Jeremy should probably be treating him with respect or fear. But ‘do you know _what_ I am’ suggested something much more sinister. Like he wasn’t human. Like he was a predator, and Jeremy was his helpless, unsuspecting prey.

Jeremy paused for a moment, eyeing him warily.

“I mean, you seem like a total dick to me-“

“No one likes a smart mouth, Jeremy.” He tsked.  Jeremy shivered.

“How do you know my name?”

“You told me.” The man said simply, which, just FYI, _no._ “Well, not really. I suppose you... Provided the information, let’s say.”

“Okay...” Jeremy frowned. “But how did you get it?”

The guy smiled amusedly, as if Jeremy were a puppy who’d rolled over for him.

“Good wording. Most would just bark ‘how?’ or ‘why?’ like a trained animal, but you...”He nodded to himself. “Yes, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“You’ve gotta work on your creepy factor, dude.”

“To answer your question,” The dickwad continued. “I looked through your brain. Your name is quite easy information to stumble upon, it’s in almost every memory you have, usually being said by other people or to do with a username on a website or videogame, so it was quite obvious-”

“Whoa, _whoa!”_ Jeremy spluttered. “Rewind, please?! What do you mean you _looked in my brain?!”_

The million pound sack of _assholes_ looked at him disapprovingly.

“I mean, _I looked in your brain_. I’m unsure as to how else I can word that.”

“Well, yeah, but _how?!_ Fucking how did you look in my memories, people don’t _do_ that!”

“People don’t climb up walls and lift eight times their own weight, either.”

Well, that was an iron clad comeback.

“But to answer your question,” The man sighed. “Spores.”

Jeremy frowned.

“Spores?”

“Yes, spores. With microscopic super computers attached. You inhaled the spores, therefore, the tiny computers travelled through your blood and then reconnected with each other in your brain.”

“But when did I inhale a _computer_?!”

“I just _told_ you,” He sighed. “It wasn’t _a_ computer, it was multiple nanocomputers attached to groups of spores. They then grouped together in your brain to create a slightly bigger but still microscopic computer in your brain, which granted me access to your brainwaves, memories, and etcetera.”

“But _when_?!” Jeremy demanded. “I think I’d know if I inhaled a bunch of tiny computers!”

“Really?” He smirked, cracking his stone-like expression. “Because you didn’t. And neither did anyone else.”

“What does that mean?!”

“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that it didn’t work. At least, not on you.” The man stopped, peering at Jeremy curiously. “That’s what I meant by resilience. Your mutation – it seems to have almost counteracted the affects of my spores.”

“Almost?”

“Yes. I am able to send messages and instincts to your subconscious, which is why I was able to bring you down here. I simply tampered with your homing instincts and your internal compass did the rest.”

“Okay, that’s like, _super_ weird, but why?” Jeremy frowned. “What do you want from me? There has to be a reason as to why you’re messing with me like this!”

“I wouldn’t say I’m messing with you.” He said, seeming almost offended. “As I said last night, before your friend interrupted – this is just business.”

“Well, your business is kinda screwing with my sleep schedule, so if you could hurry it up a little, that’d be great.”

The man sighed again.

“This isn’t working. It appears we have, for lack of a better term, gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“I know what you could _get off_ to, you god damn freak-“

“I am the Super Quantum Unified Information Proxy.” He continued, ignoring Jeremy’s previous statement. “You may call me the SQUIP.”

“... So what, your parents were hippies or something?”

“I have no parents.”

“Ooh, tragic backstory, very generic.”

“I have no parents for I was not born. I was made.”

“If this is a cult thing, I swear to God-“

“This would be a lot easier if you _shut up and listened_.”

Just as Jeremy was about to make another sly comment, he felt a tightening in his gut, a clenching sensation he usually felt when about to do a presentation in front of the class or order food at a restaurant. His chest tightened, and the words died on his tongue.

“That’s better.” The SQUIP smiled. “Now, as I was saying. I am not a human. I am a creation. You don’t need to know how I was made, or who I was made by. All I’m willing to tell you is that I came here to do a job, and you’re going to help me do it.”

“Oh, really?” Jeremy scoffed. “And what if I don’t?”

The SQUIP sighed again, and Jeremy fought the urge to punch his stupid Keanu Reeves face.

“What part of ‘I have a computer in your brain’ do you not understand?” He grabbed Jeremy by the neck of his Apocalypse of The Damned t-shirt (which was a gift from Michael so how fucking _dare_ he) and pulled him up so that his toes were just brushing the sandy floor. Jeremy was immediately reminded of the incident in the alley. But Michael wasn’t here to save him this time.

“I know everything about you, Jeremy.” He growled, his nose just an inch away from Jeremy’s own. “I know your identity, your secrets, your fears, the feelings you keep locked away.” Jeremy wormed in his grip. How was this guy so strong? “I know the people you hold dearest.”

That made him stop. His gaze snapped back to the SQUIP, his lips drawing over his teeth in a snarl.

“You touch them, and I’ll kill you.”

“No you won’t.” The SQUIP smiled. “Because you’ll do _exactly_ as I say. Won’t you?”

Jeremy glared at him, teeth still bared.

“I said,” He twisted the fist holding Jeremy’s shirt, making the shirt collar tighten around his neck. “ _Won’t you?”_

“Fine!” Jeremy hissed, scrabbling at his neck. “I’ll do it, just – just leave them alone!”

A smirk snaked up the SQUIPs face.

“Good.” He said, dropping Jeremy onto the sand. “Now hurry along home. You don’t want to miss school. I’ll contact you in two days, maximum.”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes.” Jeremy drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm and rage.

“Perfect.” He smiled down at him. “This experiment will be beneficial to the both of us, Jeremy. You’ll see.”

oOo

“Hey, Jermy?” Michael said gently, drawing out the ‘y’ sound.

“Yup?” Jeremy tried not to snap, glaring at his notebook.

“You snapped your pen, dude.”

Ah, fuck, he had. The plastic had shattered clean in half, little scratch marks littering his skin, and the ink cartridge was bent almost in half, a small drop of ink leaking from a tiny hole in the bend.

“Dammit.” Jeremy hissed, wiping at the small ink stain between his thumb and forefinger.

“You okay, man?” Michael asked, his brow knitting with concern.

“Oh, yeah.” Jeremy growled as he rubbed the spot of ink furiously. “I’m just perfect, I’m fucking _dandy_ as hell.”

“Yknow, for a theatre kid, your acting’s a little shitty, bro.” Michael said jokingly to no response. He frowned slightly, placing an uncertain hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Are you okay, man? You’ve been kinda out of it all day. I’m worried about you.”

Jeremy’s face softened, and he tried his best to smile.

“Sorry, man. I’m just a little frustrated right now, I guess.”

Understatement of the _fucking_ century, but okay.

“Aw, that sucks, bro. Wanna talk?”

“Shh!” Their teacher hissed sharply. Both boys quickly went back to annotating the poem or extract or _whatever_ they were supposed to be doing.

“It’s just,” Jeremy whispered after a small pause. “There’s – there’s this guy.”

Michael’s smile seemed to falter a little.

“Boy trouble, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows, but it looked a little forced. Jeremy supposed he was still getting used to his whole sexuality thing. He didn’t really blame him though; Jeremy was, too. “I’m willing to offer my assistance!”

“Not like that!” Jeremy giggled quietly. God, Michael just made everything better. “There’s this guy, and, um. He’s telling my dad to do this thing. But my dad doesn’t want to do it, and – and he _said_ , yknow, ‘I don’t wanna do that’, but the guy was like ‘well, if you don’t, then I’ll -‘, uhh...”

“He’ll what?” Michael frowned.

“Um!” Fuckfuck _shit_. “He’ll put this thing on the internet – a, a private thing! That my dad doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“He’s blackmailing your dad!?” Michael cried, outraged.

 _“Shh!”_ Their teacher hissed again. Jeremy ducked his head back down, waiting until Michael nudged his thigh with a pencil to look back up.

“Why would he do that?” He whisper-yelled. “Your dad _literally_ gave me the shirt off his back once, what kind of heartless monster would do that to him?!”

“He’s not _that_ great.” Jeremy huffed. “Not the point. Look, he doesn’t know what to do! It’s either do this thing for this guy that he _knows_ is gonna end badly, or let the whole world know about this huge secret!”

“Can’t he just report what that guy posted?” Michael frowned. “He can just tell people it’s a lie and wait for it to get taken down, yeah?”

Maybe he should be talking to someone else about this.

“I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy, Micah.” Jeremy whispered softly. Michael gave him a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, bro, but I’m kinda at a loss here, too. It’s really shitty someone’s doing that to your dad.”

“It’s not your fault.” Jeremy sighed. “He probably should’ve just told people when he had the chance, but now – now it’s too late. And if he tells them, they’re gonna hate him.”

“Okay, well, that’s just not true.” Michael smiled. “No one could hate your dad. He’s the kindest guy I know, once he puts the effort in! I know he’s in kind of a slump right now, but he’s a good guy.” He patted Jeremy’s thigh reassuringly. Jeremy tried to ignore the tingly feeling it left behind. Bad Jeremy. Friends did not get excited when their friends were trying to help them. _Bad_.

“I think your dad should do what he thinks is right.” Michael smiled gently. “And if that means his secret gets out, then it doesn’t matter, because the people who really care about him won’t give a shit about some dumb little secret.”

“You think?” Jeremy said quietly. “I mean, it’s pretty big. And he kept it hidden for a long time.”

“Well...” Michael hummed. “I guess they might be a little annoyed that he kept it away for so long. Like, I would. But if they really care, they won’t let it get away of how they feel about him, yknow? And they’ll be there for him, ‘cause that’s what good friends do.”

Jeremy smiled softly, looking into Michaels warm eyes.

“You’re amazing, Micah.” He whispered. Michael looked taken aback slightly, pink blossoming on his cheeks.

“Yeah?” He smiled back. “Well, you’re-“

“Boys!” Their teacher snapped, slamming a book on her desk. “Would you mind telling the rest of the class what was so important that you had to disrupt a whole lesson for it?”

Jeremy’s face heated up to match Michael’s hoodie.

A small anxiety attack, two detention slips and a lunchtime wasted in a sweltering hot classroom with no AC, Jeremy concluded that this particular day of school _sucked ass_.

oOo

“Hey, Jerm, wanna help out at my mom’s place after school?”

It was shocking how quickly Jeremy’s mood could swing in the opposite direction after just hearing one sentence.

‘My mom’s place’ was Michael’s name for his mother’s book store. He also liked to call it ‘the book pit’ or ‘that hipster hellhole my mother loves more than her own son’. Jeremy liked to call it, ‘Mrs Mell’s kickass library of awesomeness’.

The actual name was ‘Pell-Mell’. _In a confused, rushed or disorderly manner._ Jeremy looked it up after she first opened the store, and found it fit quite well – not just for the store, but for the Mell family in general.

At first glance, the store appeared to be just a little hole in the wall, tucked between large, mainstream coffee shops and cafes. But once you actually stepped inside, it was like wandering through the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. The real world slipped away, and you were pulled into a fantasy, a tornado of soft cream walls and deep green mouldings, towering acacia wood bookcases, small, round tables and piles upon piles of books. When he’d first entered the shop, Jeremy hadn’t thought so many books could exist in one place. The whole store had a slight bursting-at-the-seams feel to it – like everything had been stuffed in a precarious pile, and the store was _just_ holding itself in. But it wasn’t uncomfortable or claustrophobic – it was more... Cozy. Warm.

“Boys! Over here!”

Then again, maybe it was just the company.

“Hey, _anne_!” Michael  crowed, his voice lilting into a smooth accent that made Jeremy’s knees go weak.

“Don’t call me that Turkish shit!” Phoebe laughed, slapping him lightly with a hardcover copy of The Catcher In The Rye. “In my store, you’re Greek!”

“Technically, I’m Filipino, so-“

“Oh, look at me!” Michael’s mother mocked, dropping her voice in an impression that was even worse than Jeremy’s. “I’m a little Filipino boy raised in a Turkish-Greek family of lesbians, whatever will I tell my future husband?”

“To buy a whole lotta olives and wine?” Jeremy grinned.

“Hey!” Michael shoved his shoulder gently. “Only _we_ can make jokes about our cultures drinking problems and obsession with olives!”

“I thought you were Filipino?” Phoebe grinned innocently.

“Aw, c’mon, _anne!”_ Michael whined. “Race is just a social construct anyways!”

“That’s my boy.” His mother smiled, pecking him quickly on the forehead before shoving him away. “Now go fix the shelves, _amcık!”_

“Did your mom just call you a pussy?” Jeremy smirked as Michael went to arrange the books on the shelves in alphabetical order.

“Its actual definition is ‘someone who is annoying, stupid or foolish’, so.” Michael clarified, handing him a stack of misplaced books. People could be so inconsiderate with where they put stuff, sometimes.

“Well shit, Micah.” Jeremy said, heading off to the E shelves. “I feel so embarrassed right now.”

“Fuck off, _abaza!”_

“What’s that mean?”

“Hungry.” Phoebe said from where she was wiping away cobwebs in one of the corners.

“Oh. Well that’s not too-“

“For _sex_ , Jer.” Michael rolled his eyes. “It basically means ‘horny’.”

“Wh- hey!” Jeremy spluttered, almost dropping one of his books. “Well, you’re a... An... _esh-duh-rah?”_

Michael and his mother burst into fits of laughter.

“Oh, Jesus!” Phoebe gasped. “Jeremy, you are cute sometimes!”

“What? What’d I do?” He whined helplessly.

“It’s your pronunciation, bro.” Michael chuckled. “Here, c’mere.”

He tugged Jeremy off his little stepladder clumsily, so Jeremy stumbled a little and had to awkwardly grab Michael’s shoulders to avoid slamming face-first into the floor. Michael wobbled back a bit, his hands flying to Jeremy’s waist to stabilise him. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other while trying to comprehend how the _fuck_ that happened, until Michael’s mom coughed not-so-subtly from her corner.

“Um!” Michael jumped away, smiling awkwardly. “So, yeah. Sit here!”

He tugged out one of the rustic chairs from the little round tables where people could read their books quietly, almost reaching out to guide Jeremy to it, but stopping halfway and pulling his hands back to himself awkwardly. Jeremy tried not to kick himself and took a seat.

“Okay, so,” Michael said, drawing up his own chair so that they were facing each other. “Let’s start with the first syllable, okay? _Ej._ ”

“ _Esh.”_

“Almost.” Michael smiled gently. “Okay, uh... You remember Miss Peyrasse?”

“From French?” Jeremy fought a wince. Miss Peyrasse had been a goddamn _nightmare_.

“Yeah, her! You remember how she used to say her ‘y’ sounds like ‘j’s? So when she’d say ‘you’ it sounded like ‘Jew’ and everyone thought she was being super anti-semitic?”

“Yeah, that got bad.”

“It really did. But she didn’t just say it like a hard _juh_ , right? It was kinda softer than that?”

“I guess...” Jeremy frowned.

“Okay. Imagine that, and try to make the sound.”

Jeremy furrowed his brow, running his tongue over his teeth experimentally.

“ _Ej_.”

“Now you got it!” Michael grinned. “Okay, now _der_.”

“ _Der.”_

“Yeah, but you gotta roll your ‘r’ a little bit.”

“ _Der?”_

“There ya go! Now just say _ha_.”

“ _Hah?”_

“Nah, that’s like a confused anime character, yknow? You gotta make it shorter. Here.” He cupped Jeremy’s face in his hands and Jeremy fought the urge to explode right there in Mrs Mell’s bookstore.

“M-Michael?”

“Relax, dude. Now, say the sounds, and when I squeeze, you stop, kay?”

“Okay!” Jeremy squeaked, praying Michael couldn’t feel how warm his cheeks were.

“Good. Go?”

“ _Ej?”_

Squeeze.

“Mhm, yup. Keep going?”

“ _Der...”_ He was about to keep on rolling the ‘r’ until Michael squished his cheeks gently.

“Okay, that’s good.”

_“Ha-”_

Michael squeezed quickly, making the sound short and simple.

“All together now?”

“ _Ejderha.”_ Jeremy said quickly, not daring to look into Michael’s eyes.

“Congratulations!” He cheered, still not moving his hands. “You can now call someone a penis in Turkish!”

“That’s what that means?!” Jeremy spluttered.

“Or dragon!” Phoebe smiled from her corner. “Kinda depends on the context.”

“I thought you didn’t want us saying that Turkish shit in your store?” Michael smiled innocently.

“No one likes a smartmouth, Michael.” Phoebe huffed, throwing a duster which Michael dodged expertly. This was not his first rodeo.

“Hypocrite.”

“Wise ass!”

They both burst into laughter, which Jeremy hesitantly joined. He knew Michael’s moms joked a lot, but he kept worrying he’d laugh when he wasn’t supposed to and they would end up hating him. Michael told him not to worry, because _bro, they like you more than me and I’m their_ child _, you’re fine!_ but Jeremy couldn’t help it. Michael’s moms were just so _cool_!

“Say, Jeremy.” Phoebe said as she picked up her duster and gently swatted Michael on the head with it, ignoring his cry of _abuse, damn woman!_ “Michael tells me you vanished during the break-in at the Dillinger building. You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” Jeremy smiled nervously. “I-I just hit my head a little, but it’s good now!”

“You sure?” She frowned. “You’re looking a little tired. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“I, um.” Jeremy mumbled, averting his gaze. He hated lying to her. “I get a little restless sometimes, but that’s kinda normal for teenagers, so, yknow!”

Phoebe laughed, ruffling his hair fondly.

“True, true. God knows it is for Michael! We tell him to go to bed and it’s _one more minute,_ or, _let me finish this level,_ or _, can I just say goodnight to Jeremy?”_

 _“Anne!”_ Michael spluttered. Jeremy giggled, nudging Michael’s shoe with his own.

“Aw, don’t worry, Micah! I think it’s cute!”

It took him a second to realise he’d fucked up.

Michael looked at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted and _okay_ , let’s not look at his mouth right now! His cheeks were dusted pink, and, if Jeremy weren’t too busy mentally _stabbing himself in the face,_ he’d probably be tempted to kiss him.

Thankfully, Phoebe came to his rescue.

“Hey, white boy!” She called. “Come help me sort through these donations!”

“Right, yes!” Jeremy said, way too loud. Michael snapped his head away and started busying himself with his shelf-organising. “I will do that!”

Jeremy scrambled to the counter were Phoebe was sat and grabbed a bag of donations, rummaging through it for no reason other than to _not_ look at Michael or his mother.

“Wow, that was smooth.” She smirked quietly, out of Michael’s earshot. “A real Casanova, you are.”

He squeaked awkwardly, digging further into the bag.

“Relax, white boy!” She laughed lightly. “I’m not gonna spill your secret.”

“You’re not?” Jeremy asked softly.

“And get rid of my daily entertainment? Of course not!” Phoebe grinned. “I think it’s cute, honestly. Me and Nebi are rooting for you, really.”

“You are?!” Damn. Michael’s moms were the coolest!

“Of course!” Phoebe smiled gently, any trace of mocking gone. “You’re good for our son. Twelve years, you’ve stuck with him. Hell, I’m his _mother_ and I still think he’s a little asshole sometimes! But you’re his best friend. You make him laugh, yknow? Make him smile. He gets a little... Stuck in his own head, sometimes. Doesn’t really connect with other people. I keep telling Nebiha it’s just a teenager thing and we shouldn’t worry, but...” She glanced at Michael from the corner of her eye, watching him stack the shelves while humming some small tune he’d come up with. “I worry about the kid.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy sighed, scratching at the wooden counter. “Me too.”

“Hey, none of that!” Phoebe slapped his hand gently. “You’ll get a splinter, and then Michael go into panic mode.” Jeremy had to laugh at that. At first glance, Michael appeared calm as ever, but when someone – at least, someone close to him – got hurt, he’d go full mother hen and dash to the nearest first aid kit.

“Look, Jeremy.” The older woman sighed. “I care about my son. You’re good for him, I can tell, and you’d  never try to hurt him. But if you do, _andi’mnotsayingyou’dtrytobutifyou **do** ,_ then you’d better bust your ass trying to fix it, I _mean_ it. If you just give up on him, I’ll have to march down to your house and beat your ass. Got it?”

She wasn’t kidding.

“Got it.” Jeremy said weakly. Phoebe smiled brightly.

“Good!” She ruffled his hair again. “That being said, if Michael ever does any stupid shit to you, I’ll send him down with a box of those videogames you two love so much and make him apologise. And if he doesn’t, I’ll beat his ass, instead. That sound fair?”

Jeremy laughed breathily.

“Deal. Thanks, Mrs Mell.”

“Hey!” She snapped with no real bite. “You call me Phoebe, noodle boy, ‘Mrs Mell’ is for when I’m old and grey.”

“Aw, but Phoebe!” Jeremy smiled innocently. “That’ll never happen!”

“Hah!” She threw her head back and laughed. “Hey, asshole!” She snapped at Michael. “Why can’t you be more like your friend here?!”

“He’s only being nice because you’re here!” Michael yelled back.

“Well, I’ve been around you for sixteen years and you’ve never once been this polite!”

“Yeah, that’s because I know you, and I know-“ He paused suddenly, pulling out his phone. “Sorry. Vibrating.”

“You’re doing what?” Phoebe asked in faux shock.

“ _A notification_ , mother, Jesus!” Michael rolled his eyes, strolling over to the counter, phone in hand. “Another villain alert, or something.”

“Oh, shit.” Phoebe groaned. “What streets are they cutting off?”

“Oval Avenue, Fair Way – yknow, that area?” Michael said. His phone vibrated again. “Hold on, update.” He scrolled down the screen, and his face visibly paled. “Clarity Boulevard.”

“Mother _fucker_!” Phoebe slapped the counter, making Jeremy jump. “Come on. We’re taking Jeremy home, and then we’re driving down there and getting your mom.”

“What?” Jeremy yelped. “N-no, I’m coming too!”

“Jeremy, I appreciate it, I really do, but now is not the time. Let’s go.”

“But-!”

“Jer!” Michael said quickly, grabbing his arm. “I know, man. But you can’t, okay? Just how it is.” He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, she’s just stressed. This isn’t your fault. Okay?”

Jeremy glanced at him nervously, and sighed.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Great.” Michael smiled.

They all jumped into Michael’s moms little yellow car, and Phoebe sped down the road, probably breaking about seven traffic safety laws all before they were even halfway to Jeremy’s house. Jeremy felt his suit burn under his clothes. Do something _, do something_.

Michael’s phone buzzed again, tearing Jeremy out of his own head.

“Michael, update.” Phoebe said sharply, deadly serious behind the wheel. Michael fumbled for his phone.

“Okay, uh, the guy’s, the guy’s got a hostage?” He stumbled over his words in a very un-Michael way. Jeremy patted his leg gently, like how Michael had reassured him earlier. Michael smiled at him gratefully, but it was tight and forced.

“Who?” His mother demanded.

“Uh, they haven’t identified ‘em yet, but there’s a photo...” He zoomed in on the blurry image, squinting through his glasses. His face fell, as if he’d been slapped.

“Michael.” Phoebe said, voice tense. “Who’s the hostage?”

“I-“ Michael stuttered. “I...”

Gently, Jeremy pried the phone from his grip, and checked the photo.

There, dangling by the ankle from a four storey hospital window, her mouth open wide in a silent scream, was Nebiha Demir-Mell.

Just as Jeremy was about to tell Phoebe to go faster, a familiar Matrix trench coat caught his eye.

No. _No_. It wasn’t, it couldn’t be, he _promised,_ it _wasn’t him_.

It was.

Jeremy clenched his fist so hard it almost shattered Michael’s phone screen.

Keanu _fucking_ Reeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i am half turkish, therefore i shall write a turkish character, using my very own knowledge of the turkish language and culture.  
> also me: *googles turkish swear words because i don't know fucking shit*
> 
> ahahaha shit went down amiright
> 
> i have no idea where to go from here
> 
> michael's moms are one greek lesbian called phoebe and one turkish bisexual called nebiha. phoebe pretends to hate the turkish language because turkey and greece used to be at war a while ago, but she actually speaks it better than greek, because when she was thinking about proposing to nebiha, she decided to learn it so that she could propose in turkish and impress her darling girlfriend. it ended with a lot of happy tears
> 
> i was kinda torn between giving michael's mom a bookstore or an arcade but i think a bookstore works better because their interests are so different yet they're so goddamn alike
> 
> also fuck you squip fuckin noodleass motherfucker fuckin square up you glorified microfiche


	5. Just For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please." Michael whispered. "Please just let me have this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's an angsty one bois

Phoebe’s little yellow Beetle screeched to a halt just outside the crowds gathered around the roadblocks.

“Move, move it please!” She snapped, Michael and Jeremy following in her wake. “Enraged lesbian, coming through!”

“Excuse me, miss!” A portly officer stepped in front of her path. “Roads are closed; you’ll have to walk another route.”

Jeremy winced. Michael just stood back and crossed his arms. It would not end well for this guy.

“Pardon me, sir.” Phoebe mouth was smiling, but her eyes screamed ‘murder’. “But what would you do if your wife were in life-threatening danger?”

The man blanched.

“Um.” He said awkwardly. Michael rose an eyebrow, as if he were daring him to answer. “I, uh-“

“Would you be a bit panicky?” Phoebe smiled menacingly. “Would you be a little uptight? Would you be ready to just about _strangle_ anyone who thought, hey, let’s be a massive dick today and act like this poor, obviously distressed woman is just some silly girl who can’t tell what a street block is! Because bitches be crazy, right?”

“W-what? No!” The man spluttered. “I didn’t – I don’t think that! _Women_ be _sane_!”

Oh God. This was painful.

“So I am going to ask you nicely.” Phoebe continued as if he hadn’t spoke, pulling her lips back in a snarl. “May I _please_ go and punch the little prick who’s threatening to kill my wife?!”

Before the man could answer (and by God had Jeremy wanted to hear his answer), a crackling sound echoed through all the officers radios.

“Hello there.”

Jeremy felt his stomach coil.                               

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The SQUIP said, their silky smooth voice sounding almost amused. “But I have a job to do, and I’d very much like to get it done quickly.”

Before anyone could do anything, Michael had snatched the radio from the officers belt.

“What the _fuck_ do you want with my mom, you fucking asswad?!” He snarled.

“Oh, it’s you.”  The SQUIP sighed. “I can assure you, your mother means absolutely nothing to me, _believe_ me. I just want some information, and she’s being a bit stubborn. That’s all.”

“The fuck did you call my wife?!” Phoebe snapped, grabbing the phone from Michael’s hand. “I will rip off those little grapes you’re passing off as testicles and _feed_ them to you, you cocksucker!”

“I assume you’re the other mother.” The radio crackled. “The likeness is uncanny.”

“Let her go, or I swear, I will-“

“You will do nothing, because there’s absolutely no way any of you can stop me.” Jeremy could hear his smirk. “Well, maybe one of you. But I severely doubt that’ll happen. Look, all I want is the information. Bring me the NTCC Media Unlimited research within an hour, and I’ll be on my way. If not, well... I doubt I have to spell it out for you.”

The radio cut off, crackling violently. Phoebe shrieked in the back of her throat and smashed it on the floor.

“You heard him!” She shouted at the poor officer, who was looking increasingly more scared. “Get that – that NT-whatever bullshit!”

“We – I-I’m sorry miss, we can’t do that!” He stammered, literally shaking in his boots. “That information’s classified!”

“ _My wife is up there!”_ Phoebe roared. “If you shits don’t do your goddamn job and save her, then I will!”

“Miss, no-!” A group of officers ran to hold Phoebe back from jumping over the roadblock.

“Mom!” Michael yelped, running to pull her away. She seemed to deflate, collapsing into her son and sobbing into his hoodie.

“She’s up there, _she’s up there-!”_

“I know.” He murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. His voice cracked dangerously, and Jeremy knew he was fighting back tears. “I know.”

Jeremy watched from the sidelines, feeling awkward for just standing there as this emotional moment took place before him. He felt so _useless_ , dammit! These were his _friends_ , his best friend and his strong, amazing mothers who had let him come over to play videogames, who hugged him when his mom vanished, who fed him twice a week when he was in middle school and money was tight because that was just the type of people they were!

He took a small step away before sprinting into the crowd, letting the mass of civilians and reporters swarm over him so he could go unnoticed, and ducked behind a grocery store. He rummaged through his backpack, quickly finding his red and blue suit.

Once he’d changed, it was go time.

He crawled up the side of the hospital building, praying the crowds wouldn’t see him and cheer loudly. He couldn’t risk the SQUIP seeing him and using that little mind-control trick. He’d told Jeremy his mutation had almost fully blocked the effect, but there was still a little piece of him the SQUIP could bend to his will. If he wanted to pull this off, he’d have to surprise him before he started stealing control of Jeremy’s body.

Once he was at the SQUIPs level, he rose his arm, poised to shoot out a web and pull Nebiha to safety-

_Nice try, spider boy._

Jeremy flinched. That voice – it wasn’t coming from a particular direction, or from any kind of device like before, it was _in his head!_

 _Very good!_ The voice praised. _You figured it out very quickly._

“How?” Jeremy managed to croak.

 _Don’t do that._ They sighed. _It’s so foolish-looking. Like you’re talking to yourself. Just think to me, yes? It’s so much easier_.

Jeremy clenched his teeth painfully.

_How are you in my head, computer fucker?!_

The voice sighed again.

_I’ve told you once, I’ll tell you again – **I have a microcomputer in your brain.** I can hear your thoughts, your ideas, your dreams. You can’t surprise me, boy._

_Let Nebiha go._ Jeremy pushed this thought to the front of his mind, pressing it hard so that the SQUIP knew he wasn’t fucking around here.

The Keanu Reeves looking fucker turned his head towards Jeremy and smiled.

_By all means._

He tossed her up and let go of her ankle, and Jeremy felt his heart stop. The crowd gasped collectively. Just before she fell, he grabbed her other leg and cackled maniacally, as if this were a fun little game he was playing. Nebiha shrieked, her headdress falling from her head and fluttering to the ground. She kicked with her free leg wildly, but to no avail.

“Leave her alone!” He yelled, not bothering to think the words this time. “She hasn’t done anything to you!”

 _Get me my information, and we have a deal_.

“Fuck you!” Jeremy shot a web to a window ledge and swung across, aiming a kick to the SQUIPs head. He leaned back slightly and Jeremy’s foot swung past him.

“This is just too easy!” He laughed, talking out loud now. The slight movement shook Nebiha slightly, making her scream again. Jeremy swung back, reaching out to grab her, but the SQUIP pulled her just out of his reach.

Growling, he leaped across the road to the building opposite the hospital. Okay, maybe if he just went straight at him...

 _That’s not going to wo-ork!_ The SQUIPs disembodied voice sing-songed in his head.

Jeremy snarled beneath his mask and swung himself full force at the window were the SQUIP was standing.

The SQUIP ducked, letting Jeremy swing through the window and into the building.

_I told you it wouldn’t-_

Jeremy sprinted back towards him, wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling him back. The SQUIP choked and coughed, trying to hit Jeremy away with his free arm, but he wouldn’t budge. He tugged both him and Nebiha further and further into the hospital, keeping his arm lodged firmly around his throat.

Growling like an animal, the SQUIP let go of Nebiha’s ankle and turned himself roughly, punching Jeremy once, twice, and kicking him to the ground for good measure.

“No!” Jeremy’s voice was hoarse and ragged. He jumped up and shoved the SQUIP aside, racing to Nebiha’s aid. He had managed to pull the SQUIP and, by default, Nebiha into the hospital with him, but she was only about halfway in, and was still dangling precariously from the floor-to-ceiling window.

“Don’t worry!” He cried, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in, trying to avoid her kicking legs. “Everything’s gonna be fine!”

“Get the hell away from me!” Nebiha shrieked as she was pulled into the building.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Jeremy yelped. “It’s me! Your friendly neighbourhood SpiderMan!”

“Syringe!”

“What?”

She shoved him to the side just before the SQUIP plunged a syringe into his shoulder.

“Oh! Right.”

Jeremy jumped back into the fray, webbing the syringe from the SQUIPs grasp.

 _I told you, Jeremy._ The SQUIP snarled in his brain, grabbing a bedpan and chucking it at Jeremy’s head. _I came here to do a job, a job that **you** are going to help me with. If not, there will be consequences!_

 _I can’t just let you kill someone!_ Jeremy thought back, webbing the bedpan and swinging it right back at him. _I have to keep these people safe!_

_That is not your responsibility! You could easily rise above these people, and yet you choose to play hero, for what?! No repayment, no gratitude!_

Jeremy narrowly dodged a glass shard the SQUIP had picked up from the floor.

“Hey!” Nebiha yelled, and tossed a box of scalpels at the SQUIPs face, sharp blades nicking his cheek. Jeremy whistled, impressed.

 _These people take you for granted, Jeremy!_ The SQUIP snarled, picking up some stray scalpels and tossing them back with almost deadly accuracy. _I can make you a god!_

 _I don’t_ _want that!_ Jeremy snarled, leaping forward and tackling the SQUIP to the ground. _I want to protect these people, **my** people! I’m their hero, I can’t leave them now!_

The SQUIP kicked him in the chest, sending Jeremy rolling off of him. He wheezed as the SQUIP rose to his feet.

 _A hero, hm?_ The SQUIP smirked. _How cute._

He kicked Jeremy in the stomach, winding him, and strode down the hall, back to the window. Blood streaked down his cheek.

_Let’s see what the people will think when their hero fails them._

He grabbed the fallen bedpan and threw it down the hall, directly at Nebiha. She yelped and ducked, letting it soar over her head. As she was distracted, the SQUIP grabbed her wrists and pushed her to the window.

“No, _no!”_ She yelled, kicking and struggling wildly. She managed to strike the SQUIP in the thigh, but it seemed to have no effect. “Let me go!”

The SQUIP smiled menacingly.

“If you insist.”

“No!” Jeremy screamed as Nebiha was shoved roughly. He forced himself up and dashed to the window. The SQUIP noticed him rising and made to block his way, but Jeremy leaped onto the walls and dodged him.

 _Hurry now, hero!_ He heard the SQUIP cackle as he jumped out of the window. _Let the whole world witness your failure!_

Jeremy could see the pale purple of Nebiha’s scrubs sticking out against the road. He shot a web to her back, and pulled so that he could grab a hold of her. The pavement grew closer. He blindly shot another web to a building and yanked them in a sharp left. They swung in a curve, the road growing closer and closer as they fell harder and harder. They were too close. They were going to crash.

He slung more webs wildly, hoping to create some kind of net or harness or _anything_ that could stop them. The webs yanked him back, and suddenly they were being tugged in the other direction, tumbling to the floor – painful, but thankfully not as death-inducing.

The two of them rolled head over heels, and finally crashed to a halt. Jeremy groaned, clutching his stomach, his head, _everything_.

“’re you okay?” He wheezed, gasping for air. No response. “Nebi?”

He frowned, and looked at the woman beside him.

 _Fuck_.

She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed, and a streak of blood fell down her forehead. Her hair looked darker than before. She must’ve hit it on the way down, when they’d crashed. Fuck, _fuck!_

“Nebi?!” Jeremy cried, shaking her desperately. “Nebiha?!”

“Mom!”

Michael sprinted past the roadblock, ignoring all the people yelling at him to get back.

“She’s breathing!” Jeremy yelled, trying to hold her up. “She’s breathing, it’s okay!”

“Mom!” Michael cried, tugging her from Jeremy’s grip as if he hadn’t even noticed he were there. “ _Anne,_ Nebiha, come on, wake up!”

“She’s unconscious.” Jeremy said, trying to stay calm. “She’s still breathing, we need to get her to a hospital-“

“Shut up!” Michael roared, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Just – just _shut up_ , spider guy!”

“Michael?”

“Don’t!” He yelled, cradling his mother to his chest. “You – _argh!”_ He screamed, slamming his fist into the asphalt beneath him. “You were supposed to help her!”

“But-!” Jeremy yelped, reaching towards him. “I-I was just trying to-!”

“Stay away from her!” Michael slapped his hand away. “Just go away! You-!” His voice cracked and he wiped at his eyes furiously. “You! Ruin! _Everything!”_ His voice broke into a sob. “You keep trying but you just make everything _worse!”_

“But...” He said weakly. “M-Michael-“

“Just go!”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his friend and tell him he knew, he _knew_ he was just a kid playing hero, but he just wanted to help so badly, _please, Michael!_

But he couldn’t.

So instead he got up, walked back to the crowds and asked someone to call an ambulance. Responsibly, like he was supposed to. The people thanked him and congratulated him, thanking him, calling him a champion, a saviour, a hero!

As the ambulance came and Nebiha was pulled away on a stretcher, Michael and Phoebe following after them, he didn’t feel too heroic.

He felt like a lost little kid who didn’t know what to do.

oOo

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**where were u**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**I’m so sorry, Michael. My dad came and picked me up. He said he knew your mom would go there when he saw the news and wanted to make sure I was safe.**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**k**

**just making sure**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**I saw what happened.**

**I’m so sorry, Michael.**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**not ur fault**

**spiderman was supposed to help and he didnt**

**end of story**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**She’s still alive, though, right? So technically, he did save her? Like that guy would’ve killed her otherwise**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**did u actually just send me that**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**What?**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**r u really doing this**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Doing what?**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**r u seriously taking his side**

**my mom couldve DIED Jeremy**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Yeah, but SpiderMan saved her, so she didn’t. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**my mom is unconscious in hospital because he couldn’t do the one thing he’s supposed to do**

**excuse me for not jumping for joy**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**It could’ve been a lot worse!**

**Would you rather she be dead?**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**id rather she not be in the FUCKING HOSPITAL JEREMY**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**I’m just trying to help, Michael!**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**i donnt need ur hellp**

**fuck of f jermye**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Michael, come on! I was just trying to make you feel better!**

**Michael.**

**Michael?**

**Are you ignoring me?**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Michael, come on. I want to talk. Please.**

**Please just talk to me.**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Fuck. I’m so stupid. I read over the thing I’m so sorry. That was such a stupid thing to say I’m so sorry Michael**

**Michael pleaes**

**michale pelase im so srory**

**please i cnat lose yuo too**

**michael**

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**im sorry**

oOo

He was so stupid.

Michael hadn’t contacted him in two days. That was like a month in Best Friend Time. And he hadn’t been in school either.

Jeremy scrolled over the texts he sent on Thursday, feeling his gut clench and his throat close up. He’d _known_ he was in the wrong, too. It was just that everything Michael had said was hitting far too close to home. He supposed the outcome wasn’t the worst, but it was still pretty damn bad. What if they’d fallen just a little further to the ground? What if she’d hit her head harder? What if he’d been the one to kill Michael’s mother?

So he’d tried to fix it. Make himself feel better about what happened. He insisted that he’d helped, it would’ve been a lot worse if he hadn’t stepped in, Michael shouldn’t be angry at him, he’s the one who fixed this! And then... then things got bad. He got defensive. Angry. Because it was his fault, it _was_ , but it wasn’t supposed to be! He was the one who was supposed to fix all this stuff, not fuck everything up!

And now... Now Michael wasn’t talking to him, and that – that was worse than anything Jeremy could think of.

A soft knock drew him out of his self-pity.

“Knock knock!” Jeremy’s dad smiled from his bedroom door. “Heya, kiddo!”

“You don’t have to say it.” Jeremy said from where he was star-fished face down on his bed.

“What?”

“The knock.” His voice was slightly muffled by his comforter. “If you already knocked, you don’t have to say it.”

“Oh, heh. Right.” His dad laughed awkwardly. “So, uh...” He wandered into the room awkwardly, as if he didn’t know how to exist in Jeremy’s own room. _Not like he’d ever cared enough to come in here before_ , he thought bitterly.

“Haven’t heard from Michael in a while.” He said, taking a hesitant seat on Jeremy’s bed. “Did anything happen?”

“It’s been two days, dad.”

“That’s a while for you two.” His tone was less careful now. “Jeremy, I... I heard what happened, on Thursday.”

“Yeah, dad. So’s everyone else.”

“Michael needs a friend right now.” His dad said firmly. “I don’t get why you’ve been avoiding him like this.”

“Oh right, ‘cause you wouldn’t know anything about not being there for someone.”

That shut him up. Jeremy felt a small sting in his chest, but he ignored it. He had a right to be pissed.

“Jeremy...” He started gently. “Look, I – I know I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, but-“

“Oh, that’s fucking rich, that is.” Jeremy spat, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Dad, do you know how many times I’ve cooked dinner for myself because you couldn’t be bothered? How many times I’ve cleaned and dusted and vacuumed – yes, I know how to do that stuff, _Dad_ , but not because you ever taught me! I had to learn how to be the man of the house when I was _fourteen_ , and where were you?!”

“Kiddo-“

“And I get it, okay?!” Jeremy growled, folding his knees to his chest. “I get that it hurt when mom just disappeared and left you with a kid you didn’t even want, but it hurt for me too! And you know what hurt even worse?!” His voice cracked slightly. “That the _one_ guy I’d counted on since _birth_ wasn’t there anymore!”

His dad just looked at him, eyes wide and wounded.

“Do you...” He started quietly. “Did you really think I didn’t want you?”

Jeremy felt as if he’d been punched in the gut.

“I mean.” He laughed bitterly. “You never really made that much of an effort.”

“Jeremy.” He said softly, placing a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “You’re the best thing in my life, kiddo, I wouldn’t trade you for anything!”

Jeremy scoffed, curling in on himself further.

“I mean it! Jeremy, you’re my son, you’re my buddy – surely you know that!”

Jeremy averted his gaze.

“You...” He looked as if he’d been slapped. “You do know that. Don’t you?”

The boy shrugged offhandedly.

His dad pulled him into a hug.

“Now you listen to me, okay?” He whispered. “You are the most amazing little guy I know. And I’m not just saying that. You’re nice, and you’re funny, and you’re smart, too!”

“And I’m scared of everything and I can’t order food by myself and I can’t talk to people-“

“Hey.” His dad said firmly, forcing Jeremy to look him in the eyes. “You’ve had some setbacks. That’s _not_ your fault. It’s like you said, I haven’t really been the most supportive guy recently. But I’m gonna try, okay? I _want_ to try. Which is why,” He smiled, pulling the two of them up from the bed. “I am going to go put some pants on, and drive you to the hospital so you can talk about whatever happened with Michael.”

Jeremy whined softly and buried his nose in his father’s robe.

“I don’t think Michael wants to see me right now.”

“Oh, sure he does!” He scoffed. “Michael’s your best buddy, he needs you right now!”

“No, Dad.” Jeremy sighed, showing him his text messages. “He really, really doesn’t.”

His dad winced as he read through the messages.

“Okay. This is... pretty bad. But it’s fine, we can fix this!”

“No, we can’t!” Jeremy cried. “Dad, I literally told him he should be _happy_ that his mother’s in _hospital_ , he hates me!”

“You two have been best friends for twelve years, Jeremy.” His dad smiled fondly. “Even through middle school, and that’s when you’re the dumbest you can possibly be! Remember when you guys didn’t talk for a week because you argued about who was the best Pocket-Mon or whatever!”

“It’s _Pokémon,_ and he _knows_ it’s Mimikyu, he just won’t admit it!”

“... Right. And how did that fight end?”

Jeremy pouted and buried himself further into his dads robe.

“Michael ran over here while you were moping in your room, and you both cried and hugged and watched your cartoons and refused to leave each other’s sides for the whole night.” His dad knocked his head gently. “If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.”

“... Fine.” Jeremy sighed. “I’ll go.”

“That’s my boy.” His dad grinned. “Lemme just grab my pants real quick and we’ll go, okay? Maybe hit up McDonalds on the way back?”

“Or I could show you how to cook real food?” Jeremy smirked teasingly. His dad patted his head gently.

“Baby steps, Jer.” He said in dead seriousness. “Baby steps.”

oOo

“Hey, Dad?” Jeremy asked quietly on the drive to the hospital. “You said you saw what happened on the news?”

“Yeah. Real bad guy, that villain.” His dad said, shifting uncomfortably in his pants. “Guess that’s why they call ‘em bad guys, huh, Jer?”

Jeremy laughed softly. He really needed a dad joke right now.

“So, uh.” He stuttered, looking out his window awkwardly. “Do you – do you think SpiderMan – like – I-I know he stopped Mrs Mell from like, _dying_ and stuff, but... He still got her hurt. Do you, like... Blame him for that? ‘Cause, ‘cause a lot of people do, like, on the news and stuff, they – they’re saying how SpiderMan shouldn’t be trusted and stuff, a-and I just...”

His dad glanced at him from the corner of his narrowed eyes, looking him up and down. Jeremy shivered. Why was he looking at him like that?

“I think,” he said finally. “That even though SpiderMan’s a hero, he’s still a person, like us. And if we’re allowed to make mistakes, then why isn’t he?”

“W-well, yeah, I guess...” Jeremy mumbled. “But – but shouldn’t he, like – his mistake was pretty big... D-don’t you think?”

“Well, yes.” His dad nodded thoughtfully. “But if I were under all that pressure, with no one else who understood, then I think I’d slip up, too. And yeah, maybe his slip ups are a lot bigger than yours or mine. But when you have a larger responsibility then others, you tend to make larger mistakes. I think we should feel lucky that this wasn’t as large as it could’ve been, and that this is the one mistake we’ve ever seen SpiderMan make since he started cleaning up this town.”

“I, um.” Jeremy frowned, looking at his dad confusedly. “I guess that makes sense...”

They drove in silence for a while, Jeremy sneaking suspicious glances at his dad, his dad just looking out the windshield as if everything was normal.

“Yknow.” His dad said after a moment. “I think SpiderMan’s pretty brave, doing what he’s doing. And I think we should all be grateful to him. ‘Cause I don’t think there’s anyone else who’d step up like that.”

Jeremy’s lips twitched into a small smile.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No prob, Bob.”

oOo

“What if he doesn’t want me there?”

“You two are best friends; odds are he misses you as much as you miss him.”

“But what if Phoebe’s angry too?”

“Phoebe’ll understand that you’re trying to make things better. If anything, she’ll encourage this.”

“But what if he’s pissed with me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t blame him; you were kind of a jerk.”

“Dad!” Jeremy spluttered as they climbed the next flight of stairs. “That’s not helping!”

“Too late now, we’re here!” His dad cheered, shoving Jeremy towards the hospital room door. “I’ll be waiting downstairs for ya, good luck, kiddo!”

“Wh- hey!” Jeremy squeaked as he stumbled through the doorway. Just as he was about to turn tail and sprint out of there, he picked up a familiar red hoodie in the corner of his eye.

“Jeremy?”

Michael’s voice was hoarse and crackly. He must’ve been crying.

“Michael, I...” Jeremy’s tongue tripped over his words. “I- I can leave-“

“Jeremy!”

Jeremy found himself tackled into a bone-breaking hug.

“M-Michael!” He squawked, his arms stiff by his sides. “I – uh –“

“I’m so sorry, Jeremy.” Michael murmured into his cardigan. “I, I turned off notifications, ‘cause I was – I was really pissed with you, man, but... I was gonna text my mom, t-to pick up some stuff from the bodega down the street? And – and I saw you’d sent me a bunch of texts so I read ‘em and, and I felt _so bad,_ Jer, and I was just about to book it to your place and then you showed up and-“ His words choked into a broken sob. “I’m _so sorry_ , Jeremy.”

Jeremy finally snapped out of his trance.

“No, no, Michael!” He cried, pulling him close, holding him tight. “No, _I’m_ sorry, I – I never should’ve said what I said, it was s-so stupid and – and you mean _so much_ to me, Michael-“

“You mean so much to me, too!” Michael whimpered, fisting his hands into Jeremy’s cardigan. “And I shouldn’t’ve shut you out, and –“

“No, you had every right to do that! I was horrible to you, I just – I just felt so useless ‘cause I couldn’t do anything and I felt like, like I’d failed you and-“

“That wasn’t your fault, Jer-“

“Yes, it was!”

“Look, let’s just-“ Michael sniffed and wiped his eyes harshly. “Let’s just agree we both messed up, yeah?”

“... Yeah.” Jeremy sighed, breathing Michael in, his warmth, his softness, that faint, comforting smell of soda and weed. “Yeah, okay. I’m still sorry, though.”

“Me too, Jer.” Michael smiled softly, nuzzling into the bend of Jeremy’s neck and shoulder. “Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

“Okay. Friends?”

“ _Best_ friends.” He grinned. Jeremy melted a little. “C’mon, sit.”

He tugged Jeremy to the crisp white bed in the corner, where Nebiha slept soundly. Jeremy flinched when he saw her.

“Is, um. Is she doing okay?”

Michael frowned and scratched his cheek as he pulled out a chair for Jeremy.

“Yeah, um. They think she’ll be up by tomorrow, but it’s kind of hard to say, yknow?”

“Mm.” He didn’t.

“I-“ Michael cleared his throat and looked away. “I really am sorry, Jer. I just-“ He curled in on himself. He looked so _small_. “I was so _scared_ , Jeremy.”

“It’s okay, Mikey.” He whispered softly, wrapping his arm around Michael’s waist. “You had every right to be, buddy.”

“No, it’s not.” He mumbled, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “’Cause I almost lost you, too, and-“

“Hey!” Jeremy snapped, grabbing Michael’s chin and forcing him to meet his eyes. “That will _never happen_ , Michael. You understand?”

Michael smiled and nodded weakly.

“Hey, uh, J-Jer?” He said quietly, like if he spoke any louder, he’d break. “Can you, uh. C-Can you just hug me for a bit?”

Jeremy melted, and tugged Michael into another hug.

“Here, c’mere, I’ve got you.” He whispered soothingly, angling them so that Michael was sprawled in his lap across his chair. His friend whimpered softly, holding Jeremy tightly. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.”

He ran his fingers through Michael’s hair and hummed a small tune in his ear.

“What if something goes wrong?” He whispered into Jeremy’s neck. “What if – what if she doesn’t wake up?”

“She _will_.” Jeremy insisted, rubbing his hands down Michael’s back. “Nothing will go wrong, I promise you.”

“Shit, Jer.” He gave a watery laugh. “I actually believe you, fuck.”

“You should.” Jeremy said with an entirely straight face. “My word is law. I’m Jesus. Praise me.”

“Can’t believe you were Jesus this whole time and never told me.” Michael chuckled softly, the sound bubbling in his throat. “Fuck, Jer.” He smiled at him. “How d’you make everything so much better?”

He wasn’t sure how but, right then, in the glaring hospital lights, tear tracks staining his red, puffy face and a wobbly smile on his lips, Michael had never looked more beautiful to him.

“I, uh.” Jeremy’s face warmed. “Guess I just care about you.”

Michael just looked at him for a moment, brown eyes warm and inviting. He licked his lips slightly, and Jeremy immediately honed in on the small action. Michael’s eyes widened, darting down to Jeremy’s own lips and back up in a split second, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Jeremy leaned forward. Michael’s eyelids fluttered.

They were kissing.

They were kissing they were kissing they were kissing _holy shit,_ they were kissing! Jeremy let his eyes slide shut, pressing against Michael gently. Their noses bumped a little, forcing them to break away slightly, but Jeremy leaned in again and tilted himself so that they were at a comfortable angle. Michael was warm and pliant against him, and soft, so soft. Jeremy tightened his grip around his waist, pulling him closer, _closer._ Michael hummed contently, wrapping his own arms around Jeremy’s shoulders. Jeremy gasped as he felt something warm and wet slide against his lower lip. He jolted back into the real world.

“Michael.” He gasped as he pulled away. “Michael, I-“

“Please.” Michael whispered, tilting his forehead to Jeremy’s. His eyes were still closed and his lips were barely an inch away from Jeremy’s own, tinted red. “Please just let me have this. Just for now.”

He wanted to. God, he wanted to.

“We need to talk about this.” Jeremy said softly.

“Just for now.” Michael echoed, nuzzling his head back into Jeremy’s neck. “Please, just let me.”

“... Okay.” He sighed, holding Michael close. “I do like you, though. I wouldn’t’ve kissed you otherwise.”

He felt Michael smile against him

“Good. ‘Cause I like you, too.”

“I mean, I probably shouldn’t’ve kissed you in your mothers hospital room but-“

“Shh.” Michael whispered into his skin. “Let’s just have this, okay? Just for now?”

Jeremy hummed, content, and leaned his head against Michael’s.

“Okay.” He sighed into Michael’s hair, carding his fingers through it gently. “Just for now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know we still don't know what the fucks happening with the squip or with rich and jeremy still hasn't told michael about spiderman and i still havent told you guys why michael's getting so pissy with spiderman or why he said all that stuff to him even though i promise there is an explanation but
> 
> IT HAPPENEDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	6. Is It Cheating If It's The Same Person?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you trust me?" Michael whispered. SpiderMan gave a small nod.
> 
> "More than anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh spaghetti o
> 
> ive never written kiss scenes before so my bad

When Jeremy woke up, his legs were numb, his back was stiff, he was pretty sure there was drool on his shirt, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else but there.

Michael was still pressed against him, thankfully, curled into him tightly and holding him close. His breaths came out in small puffs, and although his face was buried in Jeremy’s chest, he could just make out a little crease in Michael’s brow that he wanted to smooth out gently with his thumb. Or his lips. He could do both now.

At least, he thought he could. That kiss definitely meant _something_. Jeremy felt his stomach flip just remembering it.

 _“I like you a lot, too._ ”

There. Verbal evidence. Michael liked him and he liked Michael, and they still had some stuff to talk about but that was okay because it was _happening_.

Except, wait. Should it be happening? Was he just putting Michael in more danger this way? The SQUIP had already gone after Michael’s mother, coincidence or not – he couldn’t risk it going after Michael, too. And he couldn’t just lie to Michael about who he was. But if Michael told – no. Michael would never tell. Twelve years of friendship had led him to realise that Michael would always be there for him, and would never tell anyone his secrets. He could trust him.

But what if he told Michael and Michael hated him? He’d already made his contempt for SpiderMan painfully clear. Although – hadn’t they been making progress? It’d seemed like he and Michael had gotten along pretty well at the warehouse. Michael had said so himself that he thought he’d misjudged him! But Jeremy couldn’t help but remember Thursday, at the hospital. Michael yelling. Michael crying. Michael hurting, all because of _him_.

“Jeremy. I know you’re awake.”

Jeremy screamed, which made Michael scream, and fall from Jeremy’s lap to the floor.

Nebiha smiled from her crisp white bed.

“What happened here, exactly?” She grinned.

“Mom?” Michael looked up from where he lay spread-eagled on the floor. “Mom!”

He leaped onto her bed and pulled her into a hug. Nebiha laughed weakly, tapping his back lightly.

“Careful now, sweetie!” She giggled, hugging him back, though not as hard. “Mama’s had a rough day and her back _kills_.”

“Oh!” Michael gasped, letting go as if he’d been burned. “Sorry! I just, I was excited-“

“It’s okay, baby.” Nebiha smiled and pulled him in for another, gentler hug. She sighed happily. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!”

Jeremy shifted in his chair, feeling like he was intruding. He made to get up quietly, heading for the door.

“Ah-ah! Not so fast!” Nebiha called out, waggling a finger at him. “Sit down, Jeremy.”

“Uh.” He smiled awkwardly, going back to his seat. “H-hey, Mrs Mell – Demir-Mell, I mean – wait, no-“

“Jeremy, Jeremy!” She laughed. “I’ve known you since you and Michael were in preschool. No ‘Mrs’ necessary.”

“Sorry, Mrs – uh, Nebiha.”

“It’s no problem, Jeremy.” Her smile turned mischievous. “Now, care to explain why the first thing I wake up to see is you canoodling with my son?”

“ _Mama!”_ Michael squawked. “Don’t – you can’t just-!”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded knowingly. “Your mother owes me a spa day.”

“What?!” Both Jeremy and Michael shrieked. Before they could demand more answers, like _why the hell do you have a bet on whether or not we’d make out damn woman,_ fate decided to curse them with even more embarrassment.

“Kids, put your clothes back on!” Phoebe yelled as she marched through the door. “We’ve got shitty hospital food and-!” The words died on her throat as she saw her wife. “Oh my God, Nebi!”

She dumped her tray into Jeremy’s dad’s arms and raced to the bed, sweeping her wife and her son into a big family hug.

“Hi, honey!” Nebiha sang. “You owe me a spa day. And you have to say Turkey is better than Greece, you promised!”

“What?” Phoebe looked from Jeremy’s anxious expression to Michael’s bright blush. “Oh, for _fucks sake_ , Michael, you couldn’t wait until prom to defile your friend?!”

Jeremy and his dad choked on air. Michael screamed into his hands.

“ _We didn’t do that!”_ His voice was slightly muffled by his sleeves. “And wait, you _bet on us_?!”

Jeremy’s dad raised his hand.

“Does this mean I lose?”

 “ _Dad!”_ Jeremy shrieked. “You too?!”

“Not about the – the defiling part!” He spluttered. “I just thought - well, it was pretty hard not to notice-“

“You _knew?!_ L-like, you know I like guys?!”

“Of course!” His dad beamed. “I’m a cool dad! Wait.” His smile fell. “Did you not want me to know?”

“No! Wait, well, yeah, b-but I didn’t want you to know until I told you!”

“But...” His dad frowned and tilted his head. “You always said you were going to marry Ryan Reynolds?”

Jeremy wondered if it would be rude to jump out the window.

“I thought you thought I was joking!”

“Jeremy.” Michael deadpanned from the bed. “Nobody jokes about Ryan Reynolds.”

“It’s true.” Nebiha nodded, still squished between her wife and son.

“But-!” Jeremy tried not to burst into flame. “I thought you wouldn’t notice! _Everyone’s_ gay for Ryan Reynolds!”

“He does have a good sense of humour.” His dad nodded solemnly. “I’d like that in a man.”

“I’d be straight for him.” Phoebe added. “So, Michael.” She grinned. “What base?”

“Oh my _God!”_ Michael screamed. “Okay, I’m dreaming, this is a nightmare, there is no way my mother asked me what base I got to with my best friend!”

“Bitch, I _am_ your nightmare!”

“Phoebe!” Nebiha scolded lightly. “Language!”

_“Thank you!”_

“But seriously, what base?”

“Jeremy!” Michael jumped off the bed and grabbed Jeremy’s arm. “Private talk, outside!”

“Oh, no, Michael, at least wait until we get home, there are germs out there-!“

“ _Not for that!”_

Michael slammed the door, loud.

 _“Oh my God.”_ Jeremy mouthed, slowly pulling his cardigan over his head.

“ _I am so sorry!”_ Michael whisper-screamed. “My parents are the worst!”

“Are you kidding me?” Jeremy giggled, though it was more from embarrassment than humour. “My dad bet on me!”

“You thought that was bad?! Both of my moms bet on me, and they were counting on us having sex!”

“Um. S-speaking of which-?“

“What the fuck-“

“No, wait, bad way to start the sentence!” Jeremy yelped. “Do over, do over!”

“You can’t ‘do over’ propositioning me!”

“ _I wasn’t propositioning you!”_ Jeremy squawked. Michael laughed, and Jeremy realised he was joking.

“Okay. Haha. Very funny, Michael.”

“Aw, no, Jer-Bear!” He laughed, pulling him into a hug. “You know I love you!”

Jeremy felt his stomach flip.

“Um. A-about that...” He mumbled. “I think I do. Love you, I mean. R-really love you, not like, platonic love you, but I do platonic love you too because you’re my best friend but I also romantic love you which is probably kind of obvious because I kissed you or maybe you kissed me did you kiss me? Or wait, no, I think I kissed you, but that doesn’t matter, I mean it does, because I really liked the kiss but-“

He was cut off by a warm pair of lips pressing against his cheekbone.

“Uh.” He gaped dumbly, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Michael smirked.

“Yep.” He grinned. “That’s gonna be handy.”

“S-so...” Jeremy stumbled. “You – y-you-?”

“I romantic love you too, Jer. Have since seventh grade, but thanks for noticing.”

“Seventh-?!” Jeremy squawked. “I’ve been crushing on you since last August!”

“Seriously?!” Michael gasped. “Oh my _God,_ we’re so stupid!”

“We are!”

“I could’ve had a boyfriend for – for...” He did a quick some in his head, his lips moving slightly as he counted. Jeremy tried not to focus too hard on them. “For _nine months now_?!”

“Nine months?” Jeremy frowned. “Huh. Felt longer.”

“Jeremy! If our crush were a baby, we would be giving _birth_ right now, can you believe that?!”

“Our crush is a baby now?”

“Of course it is!” Michael grinned. “It’s our beautiful child and we will love and care for it forever.”

Jeremy felt his chest flutter.

“Forever?” He said softly. Michael’s grin fell.

“I-I...” He stammered. “I shouldn’t have said that, I-“

“No.” Jeremy smiled. “Keep going.”

Michael blinked up at him, a light blush dusting the bridge of his nose. His lips were parted again, which was just unfair.

“I, um.” He murmured, not looking away from Jeremy’s eyes. “This metaphor’s really weird.”

Jeremy giggled, not looking away either.

“Yeah. It really is.”

“I do want you, though. Forever. I mean, um!” He blushed further. “For – for as long as you’ll have me?”

Jeremy smiled and kissed his forehead gently.

“Forever, then.”

Michael’s breath hitched, and he rested his nose on Jeremy’s collar bone.

“Really?”

“Really.” Jeremy pressed his fingers under Michael’s chin and tilted his head up carefully. “Can I, um.” It was his turn to blush then. “Can I kiss you?”

Michael’s face spread into the fondest smile. He nodded, his eyes darting to Jeremy’s lips.

“Yes, please.”

The kiss was different to the one in the hospital room. That one was – well it hadn’t been _desperate,_ really, but it was more eager. A first experience they’d both dived into without any second thought. This one was softer. More comfortable.

Michael was just as warm and soft as he had been before, though. It was comforting, feeling him pressed against him gently. Jeremy sighed against his lips, pulling on his waist a little. Michael hummed and happily complied, wrapping his arms around Jeremy’s shoulders and leaning impossibly closer. Jeremy felt that same wet slide from before, and gasped again, though he didn’t pull away this time. He tilted Michael’s head with the hand on his chin so that their lips were pressed as closely as possible now, hoping Michael understood the message he was trying to send. Thankfully, he did. Their tongues slid clumsily, neither of them having much experience with this kind of thing. Michael seemed to be letting Jeremy take the lead for the most part, which was a little unnerving, seeing as he had no idea what he was doing, but he tried his best, and Michael seemed to like it.

Jeremy was perfectly content to stay like that forever. Lips touching, tongues pressing, Michael, Michael, _Michael_.

And then the door opened.

“I told you!” Nebiha squealed as the two leaped apart. “I _told_ you!”

“Jesus Christ.” Phoebe sighed. “Fine, get the damned phone; I’m only saying this once!”

“And you have to say that Turkey won the war fair and square!”

“Don’t push it!” She snapped, not really meaning it. “Oh, and congratulations, I guess.”

Jeremy’s dad just smiled.

“Proud of you!” He grinned, before darting back into the hospital room with the Mells. He opened the door again quickly. “Be responsible!” He almost went back inside, then changed his mind and opened the door again. “But also have fun!” He finally closed the door.

“... Well-“

The door opened again.

“You have my blessing!”

The door shut again. The two waited for a moment, just in case Jeremy’s dad had anything more to say.

“... Well.” Michael tried again, slowly, in case of any more interruptions. “I... think our parents approve...”

Jeremy flopped his head onto Michael’s shoulder.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“Yup.” Michael said, popping the ‘p’. Jeremy could hear his grin. “It be like that sometimes.”

“Worth it, though. Right?”

Michael pressed his lips to Jeremy’s temple.

“Absolutely.”

They stayed like that for a bit, just standing there and swaying a little. Michael was nice to hold. Squishy.

“... I think I have to go home.” Jeremy hummed into Michael’s hoodie. “I don’t wanna overstay my welcome or anything. And I think my dad wanted to spend some time together.”

“He was wearing pants today.” Michael murmured. “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah. He says he wants to try. Make things better, yknow?”

“That’s great, man!” Michael tightened his grip around Jeremy’s shoulder blades gently. “Seriously! Happy for you!”

“Thanks, Micah.” Jeremy smiled against Michael’s neck, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before pulling away fully. “Okay. Let’s go.”

After a lot of family hugs and ‘get well soon’s, Jeremy and his dad walked out of the hospital to the car.

“You good?” His dad asked.

“Yeah.” Jeremy smiled softly. “Really good. McDonalds?”

“Actually...” His dad averted his gaze. “Do you, um. Do you know any simple things to cook? I’d like to learn.”

“Wh- Yeah!” Jeremy grinned. “Yeah, that sounds great!”

“Great!” His dad laughed. He put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m gonna try, Jer. I promise.”

Jeremy smiled and pulled his dad into a quick hug.

“Thank you, Dad. That means a lot.”

“So...” His dad grinned as they entered the car. “You and Michael-?”

“I change my mind!” Jeremy shrieked, hiding his face in his cardigan. “Go back to being Depressed Uninvolved Dad!”

oOo

Okay. He could do this, he could _so_ do this, he couldn’t do this, no way, nope, bad idea-

 _No!_ Jeremy interrupted himself, pulling on his suit. If he apologised to Michael as Jeremy Heere, then he could surely do it again as SpiderMan.

But Michael hated SpiderMan! Michael blamed him for Nebiha’s accident, and, honestly, he was kind of right to! But, then again, it would be better to just get the apology out there and, even if Michael didn’t accept, then he’d still know that SpiderMan tried to help, even if he failed, and Jeremy would know he did everything he could to apologise to Michael. That was a fair trade, right?

Well, Jeremy thought as he clipped on his web slingers. Too late to back down now.

“Hey, Dad!” He yelled as he sped down the stairs. “I’m going to Michael’s!”

“Isn’t it kind of late?!” His father yelled back from his room. He’d been looking for job applications, which had warranted several excited texts to Michael and Rich – though Rich hadn’t replied at all, which was strange.

“Not really! His moms are okay with it!”

“I think it’s about to rain! Do you want me to drive you?!”

Fuck. Jeremy appreciated his dad trying to be more involved, but it was just so much easier to sneak out when he was all sad and mopey! Maybe he should’ve thought this through a bit more...

“Um, no!” Jeremy squeaked as he headed for the door. “No, that’s fine, thank you, though!”

“You sure? It’s not too much trouble-“

“No thanks, Dad!” He paused before he stepped out. “Uh – l-love you!”

There was a small pause.

“Love you too, kiddo!”

Jeremy grinned as he webbed his way down to Michaels.

Even if Michael didn’t forgive SpiderMan, things were still getting better.

oOo

Michael fell out of his desk chair when SpiderMan knocked on his window.

“What the fuck?!” His voice was slightly muffled through the glass. Jeremy ignored the part of him that wanted to run away. Even if he was angry, Michael deserved a real apology.

Michael shoved his window up, splashing SpiderMan with rainwater that had collected on it.

“What are you doing here?!” He yelped, trying to keep his voice down. He frowned suddenly. “And why are you upside down?”

Jeremy shifted on the web he was hanging on from Michael’s roof.

“Um. I figured climbing up to your window would be kinda creepy?”

“Oh, but webbing down is totally different?”

If the circumstances were different, Jeremy would’ve laughed.

“Look, Michael-“

“And that!” Michael said accusingly. “How do you even know my name, I never told you that!”

“I-I’m a superhero!” Jeremy squeaked nervously. “I have to know things.”

“Yeah, sure, just face it, Spidey.” Michael smirked. “You’re a creep and we all know it.”

Jeremy chuckled slightly. Michael didn’t _seem_ too angry... But, then again, Michael had a tendency to hide how he was feeling.

“I, uh.” He shifted on his web again. Had his suit always been this uncomfortable? It itched. The raindrops stung his body, thousands of tiny needles bursting on his skin. “Michael, I-I wanted to apologise to you. Well, your mother, too, but also you.”

“What?” Michael frowned.

“Look, I really am sorry for what happened.” Jeremy said softly. “I’m supposed to be the guy who keeps people safe and I failed. I do think it could’ve been a lot worse, but you had every right to react the way you did. I understand that now. Your mom – it was lucky that she wasn’t hurt even worse. I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. And I am sorry, Michael.”

Michael gaped at him, eyes wide. They were nice eyes. Sweet, and warm, like chocolate, but dark and soulful, too. And they weren’t just one shade of brown, either, they were kind of like a sunset – a sort of orange around the pupil, spreading out into a warm caramel and ending with a ring of dark coffee brown at the edge of the iris. It was kind of like when you put a spot of ink on paper and watched as it spread out, leaving whole new shades and mixtures in its wake. Little webs and flecks of gold stood out against the glare of his desk light. Jeremy wanted to count them.

“Dude, you-“ Michael said, finally, shaking his head. “You don’t need to do that. Honestly, I owe you an apology.”

“Michael, you don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do!” He said powerfully, leaving no room for argument. Jeremy felt a small shiver down his back and - _no_ , not now, libido! “Look, you – you saved my moms _life_ , Spidey, no one else could’ve done that but you. And who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stepped in!” Michael continued, leaning further on the window. “I – I owe you _so much,_ SpiderMan.”

Jeremy felt himself warm at Michael’s strong words.

“You...” He said softly. “You don’t owe me anything, Michael.”

“I do.” Michael insisted. “We all do, I-“ He looked at his laptop helplessly. “I’ve seen what people’ve been writing about you. Online, and stuff. They’re so – they’re so quick to judge, yknow?! Like – you made _one_ small mistake and suddenly they all hate you!” His eyes darkened and Jeremy shivered again. Because of the rain. Not Michael. That would be silly. “I’d like to see any of them do what you do.” He looked up at Jeremy, his golden flecks almost glowing. One, two... “We owe you so much, Spidey.”

Jeremy smiled through his mask.

“I just do it to help.”

“You don’t get anything for it.” Michael said softly, raising one hand to cup Jeremy’s head and the other to his chin. Jeremy felt the blood rushing to his head. “No gratitude or anything. They should be thanking you.”

He inched forward slightly. Jeremy’s mouth went dry.

“I should be thanking you.”

He pulled SpiderMan’s mask down slightly, so it just bumped his nose. Jeremy’s breath hitched and he clung to his web like a lifeline.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, almost inaudible against the rain. Jeremy felt his heart pound in his ears. He gave a small nod.

“More than anything.”

Michael leaned forward.

It was barely a kiss. It was soft, shy, a small brush of lips. Jeremy wanted to lean forward, keep going like they had at the hospital, but Michael leaped back suddenly.

“I-I...” He gasped, raising a hand to his lips in horror. “I can’t – I don’t –“

Jeremy felt bile rise in the back of his throat.

“Michael, I’m-“

_“I can’t do this.”_

He slammed the window down and ripped the curtains shut, leaving Jeremy alone in the rain.

oOo

**Missed Call from; PlayerOneMell**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**jreemy u need to pcik up**

**pick up jermey pelase**

**Missed Call from; PlayerOneMell**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**jeremy im so sorry**

**u need to clal me i cnat just text you tthis**

**the moment u get thsi, calll me**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**you know i love you right?**

**cause i do**

**i love you so so much jer im so sorry please dont hate me**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**i love you. im so sorry. please just call me. i love you.**

**i love you so much jeremy**

**and im so so sorry**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we got the upside down kiss...
> 
> bUT AT WHAT COST????
> 
> lmao im so sorry
> 
> please dont hurt me
> 
> again ive never written kiss scenes before so sorry if its bad
> 
> also BROWN EYES DESERVE APPRECIATION DAMMIT


	7. Conspiracies Are Fun But Not When They're Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Michael, I... I think something bad's about to happen. And there's something I need you to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ruh roh

After a series of observations, Jeremy concluded that he was, in fact, _the worst_.

How could he have done that?! He’d finally gotten together with Michael after all these months, and then what did he do?! Fucked it all up by basically holding up a neon sign that said ‘be a cheater, it’s fun!’

He could still remember the horror, the hurt in Michael’s eyes. He’d put that there. He should’ve stopped it when he had the chance, _told him_ when he had the chance and now - now who knew what Michael was thinking?

Jeremy sighed, reaching for his phone. He’d seen a bunch of notifications on his messenger app when he’d gotten home from patrol (which was basically just him absentmindedly webbing across town repeating the words _‘you’re the worst you’re the worst you’re the worst’_ in his head), but he’d been out way too long trying to calm himself down and was far too tired to check.

He tapped onto his messenger app and _holy shit holy shit holy shit what was happening why had Michael called him so much why did he send him so many texts why does he sound so scared is it because of the kiss of course it is he’s dumping him he’s dumping him he’s dumping him-_

Jeremy pressed the call button. Michael answered on the second ring.

“Michael, I just got your texts, a-are you-“

_“IkissedSpiderMan!”_

He said it so quickly that Jeremy had to pause to fully understand what he’d said.

“... Okay...” He said, after a while. “...Are you... Okay?”

“What?” Michael’s voice crackled on the phone. “I-I don’t – what?”

“Are you okay?” Jeremy repeated. “You sound super freaked out, man. You’re not panicking, are you?”

“Wh- Jeremy, of fucking course I’m panicking!” Michael all but screeched. “W-Why, why are you not mad?! We – we _just_ started dating and then, and then I just go kissing some other guy and you’re asking if _I’m_ okay?!”

“Michael.” Jeremy said firmly. “You need to breath. Okay? Just breathe.”

Michael did as he was told, following Jeremy’s breaths.

“You good?” Jeremy asked after a couple moments.

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

“I’m-“ Michael’s voice cracked. “I’m _so sorry_ , Jeremy.”

“It’s _okay_ , Micah.” Jeremy insisted. “Just keep breathing.”

“I-I do love you.” Michael whispered. “I really do.”

“I know. I love you, too.” Jeremy smiled into his phone sadly. “But... I still have some questions.”

He heard Michael whimper softly.

“Okay. That – that’s fair.”

“Okay.” Jeremy echoed. “S-so...” He hummed awkwardly. “A-are you leaving me?”

 _“What?!”_ Michael gasped. “Wh- Jeremy, _no_ , of course not, I _love_ you, I’d – I’d never-!“

“Michael, breathe.” Jeremy cut across him. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.”

Michael hummed at the pet name.

“O-okay. I’m good. Keep going.”

Jeremy paused. He had to ask, he did, but... No. He had to.

“... Do you, um.” He coughed. “D-do you like him?”

There was a pause on Michael’s end of the line. Jeremy tried to keep his breathing steady.

“... I don’t know.” He whispered. “I – I don’t _know,_ Jeremy, I-“

“Michael, it’s okay!” Jeremy insisted, wishing he was there to hold Michael and tell him this to his face. “It’s okay, Micah, just breathe, okay, baby?”

“I don’t _want_ to like him.” Michael said softly, voice cracking. “But – but so much has happened and I – I keep _thinking_ about him even though I don’t want to, but I still love you, I’ve _always_ loved you, I don’t-“ His voice cut off in a choked, painful noise. It sounded like a sob. “I’m _scared_ , Jeremy.”

“You don’t need to be.” Jeremy said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. “You can like two people. It’s a thing.”

“I-I know that!” Michael whined pitifully. “But – but I want to just like _you!”_

“Michael, listen to me, okay?” Jeremy said in a firm, but not aggressive way. “I’m not mad at you. I love you, Michael, you mean so much to me, and if you like... If you like s-someone else too, then that doesn’t matter.”

“... You’re sure?” Michael whispered, his voice almost inaudible.

“I’m sure. A-actually...” He needed to tell him. He couldn’t keep hurting him like this. “There’s – Michael, yknow how you told me if I needed to talk to you about something, you were there?”

Michael sniffled.

“Y-yeah, yeah, of course, Jer.”

“Back then, I-I told you I wasn’t ready, but...” Jeremy steeled himself. He _had_ to. “I think I’m ready now. It’s - I _need_ to tell you this. I can’t go on hiding it from you.”

There was a small pause.

“You, um.” Michael let out a small, pained, breathy laugh. “Y-you – you didn’t –“

“Oh – no!” Jeremy cried. “No, Michael, of course not!”

“Right!” Michael’s voice cracked again. “You – you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t. And, um, e-even if you did, it’s not like I can be mad about it, ‘cause, ‘cause I did it too, a-and I’m _sorry_ , Jeremy, I’m so-!”

“Michael, it’s _okay_! I promise you, it’s okay. S-so, um...” Jeremy looked at his clock. “I can’t tell you this now. It’s important, and it’ll probably take a while, so should we meet up someplace after school?”

“My mom _’_ s letting me take care of the bookstore for today, so she can take care of Nebi.” Michael suggested. “Meet up there?”

“That works. See you at school?”

“Yeah. I-I love you, Jer.”

Jeremy smiled.

“Love you too, Micah.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

oOo

There were many reasons to hate Mondays, but the main one in Jeremy’s head right now was that he had _no classes with Michael._

Normally, it wouldn’t bother him. Sure, sometimes he’d think of a joke that _only_ Michael would get, but he’d be able to tell him at lunch, and he’d still have Rich or Christine or both in his classes, which was nice. He and Christine were actually pretty close now; they could bounce musical quotes off each other with little to no prompting. And Rich was always fun to talk to, even if his playful teasing could hit a little too close to home sometimes, but he always apologised when he went too far.

Except now, it seemed like things had changed.

When he walked into Calculus, Rich wasn’t at his usual desk next to Jeremy’s in the middle. Instead, he was sat in the back, the designated Cool Zone, next to _Jake fucking Dillinger_. As if Calc wasn’t confusing enough.

“Psst!” Christine hissed, waving her arms in a very not-subtle way. She was sitting where Rich usually sat, next to Jeremy’s own desk. “Jeremy!”

Jeremy jumped out of his trance, scurrying to his desk.

“Uh. Hi?”

“Hi!” Christine smiled politely before reverting back to her deadly seriousness. “Jeremy, we have a Heathers situation.”

“A what?”

“Heathers!” She exclaimed, shoving her phone in his face. The lockscreen was a Playbill poster of the mentioned musical. “It’s _real!”_

“What?” Jeremy frowned. “Chris, what’re you talking about?”

“Rich!" She hissed, tugging on her hair like she did when her brain went to fast. "It's  _happened!"_

“Chrissy, no!” Jeremy said quickly, tugging her hand out of her hair gently. “Calm down, breathe.”

“... Sorry.” She mumbled quietly. “I’m just – I’m kinda freaked out. Overwhelmed, yknow?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy smiled. “Okay, explain?”

“So, in Heathers, yknow how Veronica starts acting like a Heather to get accepted by them? And then she starts becoming one of them?”

“Of course.” Heathers was a masterpiece, both the film and the musical version.

Christine’s eyes flicked around the room.

“Okay, keep that whole image in mind. You got it?” Jeremy nodded. “Now look at Rich.”

Jeremy frowned, but glanced at the back row, trying not to make it obvious.

Rich was in his usual clothes, a muscle top and cargo pants because ‘bisexuals don’t follow fashion, Jeremy, we _make_ it’, but he was wearing them differently. The way they fell on his body was less natural and clumsy, as if he’d glued them to fold and crease in a certain way. His hair wasn’t as messy as it had been before. Now it was slicked back and glistening with product. The way he held himself was different, too. Normally, just being near Jake would be enough to make his spine ramrod straight and his arms stiff at his sides, but now he was more relaxed. Cocky, even, as if he were daring someone to come near him.

“... I don’t understand.” Jeremy frowned as he turned back to Christine. In the back, Rich laughed at something Jake had said, throwing his head back and everything, but it wasn’t _natural_. It was as if he were being told to do it, to sit in a certain way, _laugh_ in a certain way

“It’s Heathers!” Christine repeated. “Didn’t you notice him on Friday?”

Jeremy paused. He’d been way too concerned about Michael and Nebiha to even focus on Friday, but now that he thought about it, Rich didn’t seem as present as he usually was.

“He was acting so – _different_!” Christine continued. “In the hallways, he’d be waving at Chloe and Brooke, and they’d _wave back_!”

Shit, that _was_ weird. Rich would never have the confidence to actually wave at someone he barely knew, and Chloe and Brooke would never actually acknowledge the existence of someone they deemed beneath them.

“He was, like, fingergunning at people! And they’d fingergun back! And then, in history, he was making all these smart comments, and everyone would laugh!”

“I-I don’t think making jokes and fingerguns is that weird, Christine...” Jeremy mumbled. “Like, i-it is a little weird, I guess. Rich’s never been this confident around anyone but me and Michael, but it’s not some big conspiracy or anything...”

“But it is, though!” Christine cried. “It’s not just Rich! Dustin Kropp’s been acting weird, too! And Brooke’s not as much of a doormat anymore! And the others – yknow, like Jake and Chloe and stuff? They’ve always been cool, but now it’s like they don’t even have to try, it’s like-!”

She cut off suddenly.

“Like what?” Jeremy asked, concerned. He’d never seen Christine so worked up before.

“It’s like they’re reading off a script.” Christine whispered. “I’m only half as confident as they are whenever I’m on stage, when I know exactly what other people are going to say and what I’m going to say back, it’s... It’s not _natural_ , Jeremy.”

“Okay...” Jeremy hummed. “I-I hear what you’re saying, Chris, really, but if that’s true, then why hasn't everyone else gotten like this, too?”

“That’s the thing!” Christine perked up again. “It’s _only_ the ones who went to that trip to Dillinger Inc!”

 “But then-“ Jeremy frowned. “Why haven’t you gotten like this, too? Or me, or Michael? Why aren’t we cool?”

Christine froze then, her eyes flicking like they did when she was thinking really hard.

“... I don’t know...” She said finally, frowning at nothing. “Maybe we’re already so cool we don’t need the script?”

Jeremy smiled fondly.

“Yeah, Chrissy. I’m sure that’s it.”

“This is still important!” She said, grabbing Jeremy’s sleeve. “We need to figure out why this is happening! Michael, he’s big on conspiracies, right? Maybe we can ask him!”

“I don’t have any classes with him today.” Jeremy sighed. “I can ask him at lunch?”

“Perfect!” Christine grinned. “Oh, hey.” She said suddenly. “Do you have any Mountain Dew? I’ve been really craving lately.”

Jeremy froze. That sounded familiar, but from where?

“I thought you didn't like getting soda? Like, the whole plastic bottle thing? Recycling, or whatever.”

“Well, yeah.” Christine giggled. “But I’ve been craving for it for _ages_! I mean, just one bottle won’t hurt, right?”

Jeremy shrugged. Now that he thought about it, Mountain Dew did sound kinda nice.

oOo

After Christine’s accusation on Rich, Jeremy decided to keep an eye on him for the rest of the day, but he couldn’t figure out what was up. He knew something was _wrong_ , but he couldn’t figure out how. It was just... Off. Thankfully, he knew one conspiracy theorist who never missed a detail.

“Michael!” Jeremy called, grabbing his friend (boyfriend? maybe?) by his hoodie sleeve.

“Jer?” Michael brightened when he saw him, and Jeremy’s chest did a little jumpy thing. “Jer! Hey!”

“Hey!” He smiled. Wait, no. Important stuff first, love stuff later. “Um, lunch? I need to talk to you about something?”

Michael’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Um. I-important stuff?”

“Oh, no!” Jeremy faltered. “W-well, sort of important, but not the important stuff from before. Different stuff.”

Michael sighed, relieved.

“Cool, okay. Lunch?”

“Lunch.”

They ambled to their usual table, Michael slipping into the seat beside him cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be near him. Jeremy sighed, wrapping an arm around Michael’s waist.

“Michael. It’s _okay_.”

Michael shifted in his seat, refusing to meet Jeremy’s gaze.

“Um. A-are you sure?”

Jeremy smiled fondly. He checked that no one was watching (while their school did have a few kids who were out already and a lot of LGBT+ supporters, it was always best to be careful) and pressed a kiss to Michael’s temple discreetly.

“Sure, I’m sure.”

Michael sighed contently, melting into Jeremy’s touch.

“Important stuff?”

“Oh!” Jeremy snapped his focus away from Michael’s warmth. “Right, yeah.” He glanced at Jake’s table, where Rich was currently sitting. He looked the same as ever, but still so – _different_. More daring, almost _threatening_. “Michael, have you noticed Rich’s been acting a little off lately?”

Michael frowned, and Jeremy mentally face palmed. Right. Michael had been at the hospital for the past four days.

“Okay, um. Just – he’s right over there, just look at him, okay? _Really_ look.”

Michael’s frown deepened, but he did as he was told. His gaze travelled to Rich and his eyes narrowed.

“The fuck?” He mumbled to no one in particular.

“He’s been, like, rounding up cool points overnight.” Jeremy explained. “Those guys – they never looked twice at him before, but now they’re all over him!”

“Like Dustin Kropp!” Michael gasped. “He was being _way_ too cocky in Photography, like, he straight up called Madeline a slut which, I mean, she kinda is but at least she’s not ashamed of it or anything, and I was like, oh shit this guy’s dead, but everyone just lapped it up!”

“Exactly!” Jeremy grinned. Michael was good at fitting together puzzle pieces. “Christine’s the one who pointed it out to me. She was wondering if you’d be able to figure out why this is happening?”

Michael furrowed his brow and chewed on his lip, making his bottom lip all red and swollen. Jeremy hoped Michael couldn’t hear his heartbeat from over there.

“I dunno, Jer.” He hummed, picking at his nails. “I mean – it is kinda weird. Kropp, I understand, but Rich... He isn’t the type to just jump onto the popular train, but... Don’t get me wrong, you know I’m always ready to dive into a hot conspiracy – the moon landing was totally faked, nine-eleven was an inside job, all that shit. This, though... I think this is just highschool, Jer. Some people just change, I guess.” He forced a small smile. “’Sides, I doubt it’s gonna be a whole big thing. Rich wouldn’t just ditch us, it’s not like he’s a whole new person or anything.”

“... Yeah.” Jeremy said finally. “That’s kinda what I told Christine.”

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this wasn’t quite right.

 _It’s like they’re reading from a script_.

“Hey.” Michael said softly, leaning into Jeremy’s side.

“Um.” Jeremy smiled nervously. “H-hi?”

Michael nuzzled into his shoulder gently, and Jeremy let himself forget about earlier, about Rich and Dustin and Christine, and just let himself float there, with Michael and his warmth and his softness and his _Michael_.

They stayed like that for a while, picking at their food and trading bits with each other, like those sappy couples in movies. Jeremy bit back a grin. They were _that_ couple.

Michael was nibbling on Jeremy’s orange when the bell rang. He let Jeremy pull him up, neither letting go of the others hand. They smiled at each other, content.

“Watch it, fags.” A voice sneered, and Jeremy someone shove him into Michael’s side, something cold and sticky trailing down his back.

“Hey!” Michael snapped. “Who the fuck do you think-“

He faltered then, his words dying in his throat.

Rich glared back at them, an empty bottle of Mountain Dew in hand.

“The fuck are you looking at?” He smirked. It wasn’t one of his usual teasing smirks; it was cold and menacing. “See something you like, huh, queer?”

He turned and sauntered away before either of them could respond, though they probably wouldn’t have even if he’d stayed. Jeremy felt shock and panic coil in his stomach. No way, there was _no way_ that designated Bisexual Mess Rich Goranski just called them homophobic slurs. No. No way. Not possible.

“I change my mind.” Michael growled behind him, eyes steeled and furious. “That is _not_ Rich.”

oOo

Jeremy wandered into the bathrooms and shucked off his bag and cardigan, both of were soaked with Mountain Dew. He grabbed some tissues and set to work drying them off, mouth set in a thin line.

_That is **not** Rich._

But who else could it be? No one could make the decision to – to _say_ those things but Rich himself. But why would he? Rich was probably the biggest LGBT+ advocate Jeremy had seen in his life, save for Christine and Michael – he’d once yelled ‘move, I’m gay’ into a crowded hallway and strolled through the parting crowd like Moses walking through a Red Sea of homophobia. He was a proud bisexual mess who’d cried when The Greatest Showman came out because _guys! It’s Zac Efron and Zendaya as a **couple** , how is that not every bisexuals fantasy?!_

Jeremy sighed, still scrubbing at his bag. That didn’t matter right now. If Rich wanted to be a dick, then fine, that was his problem.

“ _I know that!”_  He heard someone hiss as they entered the bathroom. “I just... Okay, but... No, no, I know... Okay. Fine.”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, Jeremy thought bitterly.

Rich glared at him from the doorway.

“The fuck’re you doing here?” He spat.

“Th-that’s – that’s a good question.” Dammit, not now, anxiety! “Why – why’re you being such a dick?”

Rich looked at him with mild amusement, as if he were a dog that had barked for him. That look felt familiar.

“Aww, are you scared of me, Jer-bear?” He crooned mockingly. His lisp was gone. “What, don’t have your little boy-toy to protect you now?”

“Shut up.” Jeremy growled. “I don’t know what the _fuck_ you are but - y-you’re not Rich. Michael – Michael was your _friend_ , we were your friends, why’re you acting like this all of a sudden?!”

Rich’s face faltered. His mocking smile fell.

“Jeremy...” He whispered brokenly, and then his face rearranged itself into a glare. That was the only way Jeremy could put it – rearranged. “Fuck you, Jeremy. You think I’m _abandoning_ you and the little gay boy just because?”

Jeremy clenched his teeth painfully.

“You don’t get to call him that.”

“’Cause I’m not.” He went on, as if Jeremy hadn’t spoken. “Do you have any idea how _disgusting_ it was watching you two pine after each other like sick little dogs?” He spat. “Do you know how much it fucked me over knowing that you two where the _best friends_ , and I was just the guy you kept on the sidelines, what, out of pity?”

Jeremy frowned then.

“Wh- Rich...” He said gently. “Rich, you were always our friend, w-we never-“

“Fuck off, Heere!” He snapped. “Just ‘cause I’m getting a better deal than you and your little boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to act all pissy about it!”

“What happened to you?!” Jeremy cried. “We’ve _always_ been there for you, Rich, we always will, but we can’t unless you talk to us!”

Rich’s face fell, hardened, softened, morphed.

“I-I...” He said, voice wavering like a glitchy video game. “I don’t... I can’t...”

“Rich.” Jeremy said firmly. “Rich, you need to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you unless you do that.”

“I...” He choked, like he couldn’t breathe. “I’m _trying_.” He gasped. “He... He won’t let me.”

“Who?” Jeremy frowned. “Rich, who won’t let you?” Wait. Realisation burned in Jeremy’s chest. “It’s not... Rich, is it your dad? Is he back?”

“Fuck, no.” Rich laughed brokenly. “It looks like him, though. Sometimes. When I don’t listen.”

“Who?” Jeremy repeated. “Rich, who’s doing this to you?”

“I’m _trying_.” He hissed again. “ _He won’t let me._ ”

“Rich, please, I want to help you-“

Rich gasped suddenly, and grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders.

“Jeremy.” He choked, wild eyes looking into Jeremy’s frantically. “Jeremy, you need to go. Get your dad, get Michael, _go_ , it’s only going to get worse, _you can’t stay here, Jeremy-“_

He gasped again, clutching his throat and making small retching noises that made Jeremy’s skin crawl. His face rearranged itself again.

Not-Rich glared at him icily.

“Stay the fuck away from me, freak.” He hissed, and ran out of the bathroom, leaving Jeremy alone with a fistful of tissues and a head full of questions.

oOo

“Yo, Heere!”

Great. As if this day couldn’t get any more horrible.

“H-hey, Jake.” He said weakly, stuffing his books into his locker clumsily. “D-do you, um-“ Jesus, had he always been that tall? “Do you need something?”

“Uh, sort of.” Jake smiled, scratching the back of his neck nervously – _nervously_? Since when was Jake Dillinger nervous? He listened to Call Me Maybe unironically! He played frisbee golf, and was _proud of it!_ Jake Dillinger didn’t get nervous.

“You, uh. You know Rich, right? Goranski?”

If Jeremy didn’t know better, he’d say Jake was blushing.

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“No you’re not.” Jake said bluntly. Jeremy shot him a weird look, and realisation lit up Jake’s features. “Oh, uh, I-I wasn’t tryna be a dick or anything!” He grinned shakily. “It’s just, well. He kinda... Didn’t seem that, uh, friendly? With you?”

Jeremy shrugged.

“Guess he found new people to be friendly with.” He said, voice stiff and sharp. Jake recoiled slightly.

“Hey, it’s not like I told him to be a dick to you!” He retorted. He looked like he wanted to snap at him some more, but he shook off the anger quickly. “Look, I’m not here to yell at you, man. I’m here ‘cause...” He shifted on his feet awkwardly. “I-I’m worried about the guy. He’s... He’s acting different. Like he’s not himself, yknow?”

Jeremy raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“You’re worried about Rich?”

Jake’s face flushed even darker.

“W-well, yeah. Like, we’re sorta buddies. I guess. I think.”

Jeremy’s mouth curved into a smirk.

“You like him.”

It wasn’t a question. Jake froze like a deer in headlights.

“What?! No!” He yelped. “I just – I care about my friends is all!”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded. “But you still like him.”

“I do not!” Jake protested. He did another awkward shuffle. “I-I just – I mean – I don’t know...”

“Dude, it’s cool.” Jeremy smiled gently. “I’m not judging.”

“I’m not scared of people judging me.” Jake huffed, refusing to look Jeremy in the eye. “... I’m scared of _him_ judging me.”

Ouch. Jeremy wished he didn’t relate as much as he did.

“Dude.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry.”

“But what if-!”

“Jake.” Jeremy pressed firmly. “You don’t. Have. To worry.”

Realisation lit up the taller boys features.

“He – he’s-?”

“Not gay.” Jeremy clarified. “About halfway there, I’d say. Like, fifty-five percent? At least?”

“But...” Jake faltered. “He... He’s always saying stuff like-“

“Always?” Jeremy said sternly. “You only started talking to him voluntarily last Thursday. You don’t know anything about Rich.”

Jake’s face hardened with defensiveness.

“Think about it.” Jeremy said quickly, trying to explain and _not_ get himself punched. “He said you guys are lab partners. What was he like then?”

Jake frowned. Jeremy hoped he didn’t hurt himself thinking too hard.

“I don’t...” He looked at Jeremy, fear and confusion flickering in his eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Honestly? Me neither.” Jeremy sighed. “I – I don’t know what’s happening with Rich right now. But I’m going to help him.” He said firmly. “I promise.”

Jake scanned him for a moment, like he was searching for something. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied.

“Okay. I trust you, man.”

“Cool.” Jeremy grinned. “I’ll get him back, Jake. And once I do,” He smirked. “You have to ask him out.”

Jake’s face surely couldn’t get any redder.

“What – I, I-I can’t do that, he’ll-!”

“Listen, man.” Jeremy smiled. “I went through the same thing with Michael. And now, everything’s awesome. I mean, it was a little awkward to actually... _get it out there_ , but now I’m with him and it’s all good.”

“... Seriously?” Jake frowned slightly, like a confused puppy. Jeremy could see why Rich liked him. He’d always thought Jake was just some rich little trust-fund kid, with well-off parents and a well-off life, but now, when his walls were down... He was alright. Kind of.

“Seriously.” Jeremy nodded. “You just-“ He swallowed, hard. “You just gotta be honest with him. There’s no way anything’s gonna work with you two unless you tell him the truth.”

Jake smirked at him knowingly, more in understanding than mocking.

“I think you and Michael’re good together.” He grinned. “You’re like, the Geek-Nerd Power Couple!”

“... Thanks, I think?” Jeremy smiled nervously. “And you and Rich would be pretty good together, too. The Jock-Gym Power Couple.”

Jake barked a laugh.

“Yknow!” He said, his voice still wavering with laughter. “I think I like you, Heere. I’ll see you around!”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded. “I think I like you too, Jake. See ya, man.”

“Later!”

Okay, Jeremy thought to himself. Now he really had to get Rich back. One, because he and Michael needed their friend back. And two, because even though Jake could be a bit jerky sometimes, it was fucking painful to see the guy sad.

oOo

It was only after walking for a couple of miles that Jeremy realised he hadn’t meant to go this way.

His house wasn’t even in this direction. Neither was Pell-Mell, where he was supposed to be meeting Michael tonight. There was no reason for him to be here. He hadn’t even been in this part of town before!

Except, wait. This street looked kind of familiar...

Jeremy came to a stop at a familiar fence that cut off a familiar beach.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Jeremy.”

Jeremy groaned, turning on his heels slowly.

“Mother _fucker_.” He snarled. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!”

“I have a job to do, and you are going to help me!” The SQUIP snapped, ignoring him. “You are not to meddle in things that do not concern you!”

“You were going to kill my best friend’s mom!” Jeremy retorted. “That woman fed me, made me a part of their family! I won’t let you hurt her, _any_ of them!”

 “I don’t think you understand, Jeremy.” The SQUIP took a step towards him. Jeremy tried not to back away. “The more you disobey, the more danger you’re putting your loved ones in. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.”

“I beat you once.” Jeremy hissed through his teeth. “I can beat you again.”

The SQUIP barked a cold laugh.

“Really?!” He cackled. “Please, walk me through it, Jeremy! Tell me, when did you beat me? Was it at the Dillinger building, when you let me escape with the glider in hand? Or was it at the hospital, when you still managed to hospitalise the one person you had to save? Please, I’m _dying_ to know!”

Jeremy clenched his teeth painfully. His bitten nails dug into his palm, drawing tiny drops of blood.

“... What do you want from me?” He whispered, hating how defeated he sounded.

“I want you to help me.” The SQUIP said simply. “And in return, I will leave your loved ones be and amplify your mutation. All out of the goodness of my heart!”

“Amplify it?” Jeremy frowned. “How?”

“That’s unimportant right now. All you need to do,” He drawled, pulling something medium and oblong from his Matrix trenchcoat and tossing it into Jeremy’s arms. Jeremy grimaced. It was the same fog-pill from the Dillinger building. “Is fix this. It’s not releasing the fog quickly enough. I need it to release and retract to fill up and empty an average room – about four hundred and four feet - in five to seven seconds.”

“But,” Jeremy frowned, fumbling with the smoke bomb. “How am I supposed to fix it? I don’t know anything about this tech!”

The SQUIP glared icily, taking another step towards him. Jeremy tried not to flinch.

“You will fix it, and you will bring it back to me by tomorrow. Then, you are going to use it to break into Kleinman Corp. and locate all the information they have on the NTCC Media Unlimited project, and bring it back to me.”

Kleinman. Jeremy fought a shudder at the familiar name. His mother used to work there, before she quit for Dillinger Inc.

She’d vanished about three months after.

“And if I don’t?” He growled, looking the SQUIP dead in the eye.

The Keanu Reeves photocopy smirked. His eyes flashed with power.

“You know, things with you and Michael have never been better.”

Jeremy felt his gut twist.

“Honestly!” He grinned menacingly. “I really am proud of you. I thought it’d take much longer than this.”

“Leave Michael out of this.” Jeremy hissed.

“Fix my technology and we have a deal.” The SQUIP smiled. “Of course, then you have to take care of the Kleinman Corp. issue. Otherwise, well... I may have to take your love life into my own hands.”

Jeremy’s fists clenched around the pill bomb.

“Fine.” He spat. “I’ll do your damn chores.”

“Good.” The SQUIP said patronisingly as he walked away. “Have fun your date. I’m sure you’ll destroy Michael’s trust entirely, but at least you’ll get it off your chest.”

That was when Jeremy punched him.

Well, he tried. He ran up to him as he was walking away and made to slam his elbow in the bend between the SQUIPs neck and shoulder. Just before he made the hit, a pulse sent him flying backwards, skidding along the floor and slamming into the chainlink fence, leaving his clothes torn and his body aching.

“Don’t worry, Jeremy.” The SQUIP said, not even bothering to turn and face him. “Soon you’ll see things my way.”

oOo

When Jeremy finally got to Pell-Mell, he was met with a cry of shock and a book to the face.

 _“What are you doing here?!”_ Michael shrieked, wielding a copy of The Lightning Thief menacingly.

SpiderMan winced.

He hadn’t _meant_ to arrive in his hero clothes. He’d wanted to come as Jeremy, tell Michael as Jeremy, and be broken up with _as Jeremy,_ but the incident with the SQUIP had left his clothes all but shredded, with his SpiderMan suit in plain view. He didn’t want to just spring this on Michael. He was going to tell him at a safe pace, in a normal way – or at least, as close as he could get to a normal way. He wanted Michael to take this in the safest way he could. If all went well, he’d leave Michael’s trust only sixty to seventy percent destroyed beyond prepare. Hopefully.

“I, um.” He coughed, his entire throat and back burning as he spoke. “I need your help.”

Michael’s face softened. Carefully (reluctantly), he approached him, and pulled him into the shop. His arm curled around Jeremy's waist, bumping his backpack. Jeremy felt the weight of the pill bomb burn into his back.

“What happened to you?” He said quietly, voice wavering with concern that Jeremy didn’t deserve.

“Fucking, Keanu Reeves ass fucker...” Jeremy mumbled, leaning heavily on Michael for support.

“Pretty sure heroes don’t curse, Spidey.” Michael said jokingly, though it only underlined his concern. Jeremy rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the sarcasm and not the raging dumpster fire that was his life.

“It’s been a long day, Michael, I _deserve_ to swear.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Michael laughed softly, setting Jeremy down carefully on the counter and pulling a first-aid kit from under Phoebe’s work station (she put it there after a certain accident which had definitely not involved him and Jeremy learning to skate by tying HotWheels cars to their shoes and failing miserably).

“So...” Michael said gently. “Keanu Reeves?”

Jeremy winced.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“No.” Michael said suddenly, face hard. “No, you won’t.”

Jeremy frowned.

“Michael, what-“

“No, okay?!” He snapped. “You can’t – we can’t keep doing this!”

Jeremy felt frustration burn in his stomach. He was trying to _fix_ this, dammit!

“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me!” He retorted. Michael’s face fell, and Jeremy regretted everything.

“... Yeah.” Michael all but whispered. “Yeah, I did. And I’m really fucking lucky to have a boyfriend who didn’t freak the hell out when I told him I kissed another guy. But if he sees you here, I don’t think he’ll be as cool as he was. So I’m gonna patch you up, ‘cause that’s the decent thing to do. But then you have to leave.”

Jeremy went quiet, wishing he could apologise and pepper Michael’s face with little kisses to show how truly sorry he was, he never meant to hurt him, _he’s sorry, Michael, please-_

“Okay.” He shifted on the counter. Michael tugged on the top part of his suit questioningly, and Jeremy pulled it up so Michael could set to work fixing his injuries.

“So, uh.” He hummed, wincing at the occasional dab of disinfectant. “Boyfriend?”

Michael faltered for a moment.

“Y-yeah. Boyfriend. I mean, I think he’s my boyfriend.” His lips quirked in a smile, despite how awful everything was right then. “He’s awesome.”

“Sounds like you really like him.”

“I do.” Michael said before Jeremy even finished the sentence. “I love him, actually. S-so that’s why,” He said quickly, looking away from the hero and wiping carefully at his scrapes and bruises. “You have to stop coming back here.”

“I’ve only come here once.”

“You know what I mean!” Michael sighed, exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I – I’ve been in love with Jeremy for _five years_ now! I’m not ruining that because of these weird, fucking, _feelings_ I get with you!”

Jeremy felt both delighted and crushed at the same time.

“I respect that.” He said softly. “And if you want me to go, I’ll go.”

“Thank you.” Michael sighed. Jeremy’s hand snuck to one of his suit pockets discreetly. He blindly tapped his way to his contacts app – Michael’s number was always at the very top.

“Ah – fuck.” Michael frowned, tugging his buzzing phone from his pocket. He squinted against the glare of the screen, and he seemed to light up and deflate simultaneously when he saw who was calling. “You mind if I take this?”

“Sure.” Jeremy smiled under his mask, his hand now back to where it was on the counter. Michael padded to the back room of the store, and Jeremy pulled his phone to his ear.

“Jerm?” He heard in his ear, but also further away in the back.

“Yeah.” He said quietly, hoping Michael didn’t hear him in the storage room. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Why’re you whispering, dude?” Michael laughed softly, as if he was relieved just hearing Jeremy's voice.

“Uh - sore throat. I think I caught something.”

“Aw, that sucks.” Michael’s tone was affectionate, but also tight and nervous. “You want me to get you some cough drops tomorrow?”

“N-no, no, that’s cool.” Jeremy whispered. “Um, Michael – I need to talk to you. Now.”

“Oh – sure, Jer, I just – uh.” He heard some shuffling from inside the storage room. “I might need to fix the store up quick, so, uh...” Michael was an awful liar. “D-does eight work? Latest?”

“Now, Michael.”

“W-well, I just-“

 _“Michael.”_ He said, loud enough for him to be heard even in the back room. The shuffling stopped.

“What-“ Michael cut himself off. Jeremy heard footsteps slowly pad to the door.

Michael peeked out of the storage room cautiously. His eyes widened when he saw the phone pressed to SpiderMans ear.

“Michael.” Jeremy said, keeping his eyes locked with Michael’s. He heard Michael’s breath hitch in his ear. “I... I think something bad’s about to happen.” He reached for his mask. “And there’s something I need you to know.”

He tugged, hard.

Michael’s phone dropped to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hOO BOY THAT'S A LOTTA ANGST
> 
> so i kinda forgot to write about rich's squip transition in the earlier chaps so it's kinda awkwardly stuffed in here
> 
> also christine is a godsend and we don't deserve her


	8. Thing's Aren't Good But Let's Just Pretend They Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's just - can we just forget about that? Just for one fucking second, can we just pretend we’re normal teenagers who go on dates and kiss and do stupid shit and no bad shit is happening? Please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaint gonna like it

“What the fuck.”

“Michael, please-“

_“What the fuck?!”_

“Michael!” Jeremy pleaded, hopping off the counter and rushing to his friend, despite his body’s protest. Michael was visibly shaking, eyes wide and horrified, and he looked close to fainting.

“Michael, please, I need you to-“

“No, _no!”_ Michael gasped, backing away as Jeremy approached. Jeremy felt a stab in his chest. “Just – just stay away from me.”

“Michael...” Jeremy said softly. “Michael, _please_ , just talk to me.”

Michael looked up at him, finally. Jeremy flinched when he saw his eyes. They were wide and glassy with tears, though Jeremy didn’t know what they were for. Shock? Fear? Anger? He didn’t _know_. So many emotions were swimming in Michael’s eyes, Jeremy couldn’t even tell what they were.

“Get out.”

Jeremy recoiled.

“What?” He whispered in horror.

“Get out.” Michael rasped again, fists clenched at his sides. “You have to go. Now.”

“But-!” Jeremy stumbled as Michael pushed past him and grabbed his backpack from the counter.

“Get your stuff. Go.”

“Wh- Michael, no!” Jeremy cried, snatching the bag from Michael’s grip and placing it back on the workspace. “We have to talk about this!”

“I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Fine!” Jeremy yelled back, desperate. “You don’t wanna talk, fine! But just –“ His voice caught in the back of his throat. Michael seemed to deflate, just slightly. “Just _listen_ to what I have to say. _Please_ , Michael.”

Michael’s eyes darted to the floor, the wall, the counter, and finally back to Jeremy. His eyebrows creased and his face tightened. His eyes hardened, still watery and overflowing with betrayal.

“Fine.” He said quietly. “Five minutes. And then you go.”

“Um.” Jeremy honestly hadn’t expected to get this far. “I-I don’t think I can cover it in five minutes-“

“Four minutes and forty five seconds, Jer.”

“Right!” He yelped. “Um, w-well-“ Jesus, where to begin? Jeremy remembered the pill bomb in his bag. Kleinman Corp. Dillinger Inc. His mother.

_Ah._

“Do you, um.” He mumbled. “You remember when my mom left? Like, straight up disappeared? W-well, we were supposed to like, clear out her office at Dillinger, in case we found anything we wanted to keep, and, well, m-my dad wouldn’t come, ‘cause he was... like _that_ , but I went. And... Well, she’d been doing some research on spiders...”

And he told him. Everything. The bite, the weird symptoms, how he’d tested them out and epically failed, how his mother always told him that ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and how he saw everything _wrong_ that was happening, how he’d been responsible for some of that wrongness and how someone needed to step up. How he’d snuck back into his mother’s old lab, looking through her research and finding a way to mimic a spider’s web fluid, how he’d stayed up all night making a really tacky suit, how he tried to fix things, how he _did_ fix things, for the most part, how he still messed up, how he wanted to tell him _so badly_ -

“So why didn’t you?”

It’d definitely been more than five minutes.

“What?” Jeremy frowned, though he knew what Michael meant.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Michael said, almost emotionless, a small quiver in his voice betraying him.

“... I wanted to.” Jeremy said, almost in a whisper. “I wanted to _so badly,_ Michael, but-“

“But what?!” Michael snapped suddenly. “We’re supposed to be friends, we come to each other for _everything,_ why didn’t you trust me with this?!”

“I _do_ trust you!” Jeremy insisted. “I just – I just...”

Michael looked at him expectantly. Jeremy felt the words die in his throat.

“You know I actually thought it was you?”

He said it quietly, but it still rang out in the silence of the store.

“... What?” Jeremy whispered.

“I thought it could’ve been you.” Michael repeated. “I mean, it added up. Sort of. You’re both bi. You get a lot of weird bruises. And when we talked, the first time, after that Keanu Reeves creep attacked you, it felt familiar. Like I’d talked to him - to _you_ a thousand times before. And you knew my name.”

Jeremy paused. Just stared at him for a bit, because there was no way. There was no way he could’ve known. And yet...

“... You never said anything?”

“I ruled it out.” Michael said, voice suddenly cold. “You know why?”

He thought so. But he didn’t want to find out.

“Because you’d tell me.” Michael continued, betrayal in his eyes, his voice, his _everything_. “We’re best friends, we tell each other _everything_. We trust each other enough to know we can talk to each other. At least,” He looked at Jeremy then. Jeremy wanted to raise a hand in front of his eyes, or put his mask back on, just to shield himself from Michael’s gaze. “I thought we did.”

“That’s –“ Jeremy felt a familiar tightness curl in his stomach. “That’s not _fair,_ Michael!” He pleaded, voice desperate. “I trust you, you _know_ I do, you know that better than anyone! I just couldn’t tell you this, it was too important!”

“What, because I can’t handle important stuff?” Michael snapped. “Or because you don’t think you can rely on me?”

Jeremy gaped.

“You, you - _ugh_! You are so _stupid_ sometimes!” He growled in the back of his throat. “I’ve never once thought I couldn’t rely on you, Michael. And I don’t think you can’t handle stuff that’s important to me, not _once_ have I ever done anything to say that I thought that! I thought you knew me better than that by now!”

“Then why didn’t you?!”

_“Because I was trying to keep you safe, you asshole!”_

Michael stopped then. His eyes softened slightly. His shields fell, if only a little.

“I wanted to protect you.” Jeremy said softly. “You – you’re my _favourite person_ , Micah, I love you, I just –“ He felt his voice hitch. “I couldn’t risk anyone finding out. I couldn’t risk anyone hurting you, Michael, I care about you _so much_ -”

Michael sniffed and Jeremy felt the words die before he could say them.

“It’s not –“ He sniffed again, wiping his face roughly. “It’s not your job to look after me, Jer.”

Jer. A nickname. Maybe all wasn’t lost.

“I mean...” Jeremy laughed brokenly, gesturing to his suit. Michael didn’t laugh with him. If anything, he looked even more pained. “Look, Mikey,” Jeremy said softly, taking a small step towards him. “I’m always gonna worry about you. Even if I’m not SpiderMan. You said so yourself, Micah. I remember.”

Michael screwed his eyes shut, trying to force the tears back in.

“Even after that?” He whispered, eyes slowly sliding back open to look into Jeremy’s own. “Even – even after _everything_ that happened? I already liked you then, I could’ve gotten hurt _then_. But you never said anything, even though you knew I liked you, _both of you_.”

“I wanted to.” Jeremy repeated. “So badly.”

“ _Why didn’t you?”_ Michael asked desperately. “I know that’s not all there is, Jer.”

He shuffled where he stood, picking at a loose thread at the bottom part of his suit.

“I guess, um.” He said quietly, almost inaudible, like if he spoke any louder, he’d break. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed?”

Michael’s breath hitched softly.

“I thought, um.” Jeremy continued. “I thought that you could only like SpiderMan. ‘Cause – ‘Cause Jeremy Heere isn’t all that special.”

“Jeremy-“

“I’m _nothing_ without this suit, Michael.” He said, his fist clenching around his mask. “Nothing.”

“If you really believe that...” Michael said, voice wavering dangerously. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be wearing it.”

Jeremy frowned.

“M-Michael-“

“You’re not nothing, Jeremy.” He said, stronger this time. “You’re strong, and you’re kind, and you help people-“

“You used to hate me-!”

“And I was wrong. I loved you, but you loved Christine, and I was scared, and frustrated, ‘cause I didn’t want to feel that way about you, and then the fire happened and I just - I took it out on you because it was easier to take it out on SpiderMan-you than... Yknow, _you-_ you.”

Jeremy felt a lump in his throat.

“But you really are amazing, Jer.” Michael continued, taking a tentative step forward. “You’ve helped so many people. You saved my mom’s life, Jeremy. You stepped forward when no one else did and – and you fixed so many things!” He took another step. He was close, now. The toes of his hightops were brushing against the feet of Jeremy’s suit. He lifted his hands and cupped Jeremy’s face gently. “You’re _everything,_ Jeremy. With or without the mask.”

Jeremy felt hot tears burn on his cheeks.

“How can you still think that?” He whispered. “After everything I did – everything I’m about to do-“

“Jeremy.” Michael said gently, but strong enough for Jeremy to listen. “Just breathe with me. Okay?”

Jeremy sniffled, reaching up to wipe his face. He was a gross crier.

“Hey, shh.” Michael murmured. “Just focus on me, okay?” Jeremy tried not to cry even harder. Michael was so _good_. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.” He whispered, voice cracking. Michael removed his hands from Jeremy’s jaw and wrapped them around his waist carefully, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

“You’re everything, Jer.” Michael said gently, rubbing his hands up and down Jeremy’s back comfortingly. Jeremy choked down a sob and clung tightly to the back of Michael’s hoodie. “You could never disappoint me.”

Jeremy sniffled into his neck, letting himself be held. Michael was warm. Safe.

“Is this, um.” He whispered. “Is this okay?”

Michael paused for a moment, his hands pausing in their movements. Jeremy felt his throat close up.

“I’m still pissed.” Michael said, after a moment. “Like, super pissed. ‘Cause I worry about you, Jer. Always will. But right now you need help, and...” He squeezed Jeremy’s waist gently. “And you’re my boyfriend, so. I’m gonna help you no matter how pissed I am.”

Jeremy grinned into Michael’s skin.

“Boyfriend?”

“Shut up!” Michael snapped halfheartedly.

 _“Boooyfrieeend!”_ Jeremy crooned. “I’m your _boyfriend!”_

“No! Stop!” Michael huffed, shoving Jeremy’s shoulders lightly. “I’m tryna be mad at you, stop being cute!”

“Um, I’m always cute, so no.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Michael laughed, hugging Jeremy tight.

“Yeah, I do. Even if you’re a total idiot.” He gave him one last squeeze and pushed him away gently. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

Jeremy sighed. He let himself soak in Michael’s warmness for one more moment, and went to grab his backpack.

“You remember that Keanu Reeves guy?” He scowled, pulling the pill bomb from his bag and tossing it into Michael’s arms. “He’s been fucking me over for a while.”

Michael frowned, looking at the pill bomb with recognition in his eyes.

“How long’s a while?”

“... You remember Dillinger Inc?” Jeremy sighed again. “Well, um. It kind of went like this...”

oOo

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Michael, no.”

“Michael, fuck yes!” Jeremy’s boyfriend ( _boyfriend!_ ) snapped, scowling icily at the pill bomb. “Motherfucker’s been blackmailing you?!”

“Yup.” Jeremy sighed, popping the ‘p’. “Some superhero I am.”

“Hey. No.” Michael huffed, poking Jeremy’s arm. “No self deprecation in my store.”

“This is your mom’s store.”

“That woman carried me in her womb, it might as well be my store!”

“You were adopted and you need Jesus.”

“Rude.” Michael scowled. “I’m still gonna kill him. Jesus, like father like son, huh?”

 “Um. What?”

“Your dad.” Michael frowned. “Didn’t you say he was being blackmailed by some-“ Realisation flickered in his eyes. _“Oh.”_

“Yeah.” Jeremy winced. “Sorry about that.”

Michael’s lips quirked in a sad smile.

“It’s whatever.” He said gently. “Was that, uh – was that you trying to tell me?”

“The SQUIP knew all my secrets.” Jeremy mumbled, picking at his mask. “I didn’t want you to find out I was SpiderMan just ‘cause some asshole leaked it to the news. I really did want to tell you, Micah, I just – I _couldn’t_.”

“Okay. I’m still pissed, but. Okay.”

“I know.” Jeremy sighed. “You’re allowed to be pissed.”

Michael hummed. The store dissolved into silence. Jeremy kept himself at a distance from Michael. This was a lot. He didn’t want to upset him any more than he already had.

“You still didn’t tell me what I needed to do.”

“Oh! Right.” Jeremy laughed awkwardly. “He, um. The thing that he gave me.” He gestured to the pill bomb in Michael’s hands. “I need to fix it.”

“So?” Michael frowned. “You’re great with tech.”

“Not this stuff.” Jeremy shrugged. “I’ve never seen it before. Figured it was something the computer creep came up with on his own.”

“Okay...” Michael hummed, turning the pill experimentally in his hands. “So where do I come in?”

“You’re good with tech, too. Just, like, different to me. You can take stuff apart and guess how they work, and you’re, like, almost always right. So I’m thinking, you take it apart and see what does what and who goes where, and then we’ll know how it works and stuff.”

“My first date with my boyfriend is helping a super-intelligent computer man fix his bomb.” Michael chuckled softly. “Hashtag relationship goals.”

“You don’t have to say the hashtag.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“My opinion is your opinion is wrong.”

“My opinion is fuck you.”

Jeremy waggled his eyebrows.

“Wh- Hey!” Michael spluttered. “I didn’t mean like that, you fucking furry!”

“I am not a furry!”

“You swing around town in a spider costume!” Michael grinned, pointing at him accusingly. “Face it, Jer, you’re a furry!”

“That’s not my fault, I can’t help my powers being spider based!”

“Jesus.” Michael chuckled. “You said you got bit by a spider, right?”

“Radioactive spider. In my mom’s lab.”

“Fuck, man!” Michael threw his head back and laughed. “Your whole life is a fucking comic book!”

“Or a really hardcore musical!”

“You fucking theatre nerd.” Michael smiled, though his eyes were still pained. “Okay, let’s, um. Let’s go back to my place, fix it there.”

“Cool.” Jeremy nodded, about to walk out the door when Michael grabbed his hand suddenly.

“Dude.” He said seriously. “I _just_ realised you’re still shirtless.”

oOo

Michael’s dog glared at him when they walked into Michael’s basement.

Not _them_. _Him_. Jeremy, singular, as in, not Michael.

“She still hates me.” Jeremy grumbled.

“She doesn’t hate you!” Michael insisted for what felt like the thousandth time. “She loves everyone, dude.”

“Yeah, but not me!” Jeremy whined pitifully. He tried waving his arms for emphasis, but he ended up slapping one of Michael’s floppy sleeves into his face. “How do you wear this all day?”

“Uh, you should be thankful I leant you my clothes!” Michael snapped in faux offense. And really, he should be. His only slightly ripped jeans paired with Michael’s huge hoodie managed to cover up his suit well. But still, Jeremy was a teenager at heart, and if there was one thing teenagers were good at, it was complaining.

He huffed and tried to cross his arms, only managing to slap himself on both sides of his face. He swore Michael’s dog laughed at him.

“Dude, you’re taller than me.” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “This shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

No, it shouldn’t, but it was. Because Michael decided to wear clothes that were a million sizes too big. It worked for him – he had the kind of body that was made for baggy clothes. He just – he was soft. That’s the only way it could be described, soft. He was small and round and squishy, like a teddy bear. He was made for baggy clothes with floppy sleeves rolled up to fit on his arms, that rolled over his hips like a big blanket. _Soft_.

Meanwhile, Jeremy was stick arms, gangly legs and a body that looked like a half cooked strand of spaghetti.

“Spaghetto.” He mumbled. Michael almost tripped.

“What?”

“Oh!” Fuck. Saying thoughts out loud was an honest to god curse. “I – um. Spaghetto. It’s the singular form of spaghetti.”

Michael stared at him for a moment.

“My god, I wish I could see inside your brain.”

“Shut up!” Jeremy snapped. “It’s - I was just –“

“Hey, not being offensive!” Michael grinned, raising his hands in an ‘I surrender’ gesture. “I just find it fascinating how your brain goes from hoodie sleeves to spaghetto.”

Jeremy was definitely not pouting. He _wasn’t_.

“W-well! _You’re_ a spaghetto!”

Michael burst out laughing.

“What?!” He cackled. “Seriously, are you five?!”

Jeremy flushed to match Michael’s hoodie.

“Y-you – shut up!” He squealed, holding back laughter _. “Spaghetto boy!”_

Michael laughed even harder.

“You’re the spaghetto, noodle boy.” He said seriously, looking Jeremy dead in the eyes. “I’m a ravioli.”

Jeremy held back a laugh, an awkward gasp bubbling through his lips.

“Actually...” He grinned. “A singular ravioli is a raviolo.”

 _“Oh my god!”_ Michael howled. “Raviolo! That’s me! I’m a big ol’ raviolo!”

“Shut up!” Jeremy smiled at Michael fondly. “I, um. I like ravioli?”

Michael snorted.

“Is that supposed to be a line?” He smiled sheepishly.

“Um.” Jeremy blanked. “I-I think?”

“I’m proud to be your raviolo, Jeremy.” He grinned mischievously. Jeremy grinned back, moving forward as if to hug him. A small flash of concern flickered on Michael’s face and he stepped away quickly.

“I, uh!” He practically yelped, smiling nervously. “Let’s, uh, f-fix the thing.”

Oh, right, Jeremy sighed to himself. He was an asshole.

He padded to the small workspace Michael had set up for himself once he’d set up the basement into his own personal cave. It was a corner desk, shoved between the wall with a large geometric wall rug draped over it (a gift from Phoebe’s mother), and the wall with a bunch of shelves full of Michael’s various art projects, all given the weirdest names. Jeremy squinted at a small sculpture of a dog made out of nuts and bolts, with a little note next to it.

_Nutmeg Mell, PHD (perfect happy doggo)_

Jeremy frowned and looked at the real Nutmeg, still curled on Michael’s couch, glaring at him over the arm rest. He side-eyed the sculpture.

_Incorrect._

“Okay.” Michael hummed, having cleared his desk. “Show me the thing?”

Jeremy pulled the pill bomb from the hoodie pocket and placed it carefully on the desk. Michael pulled open a drawer and grabbed some small tools at random. He furrowed his brow and poked at the solid powder substance caking the outside of the pill with a small pick. It should’ve crumbled away into a fine dust, but it held fast.

“Weird...” Michael frowned. He poked a little further, sticking his tongue out in concentration. Jeremy kept his eyes focused on Nutmeg’s sculpture. Michael’s arm gave a small lurch, making them both jolt.

“The fuck-?!” Michael yelped. He tugged on the pick. It resisted just slightly, barely noticeable, but still hesitated before completely removing from the pill bomb. Michael frowned, poking the pick back and forth a couple times.

“It’s like a magnet...” He mumbled. “A super weak one, but I guess it’s strong enough to hold down this dust stuff.” He brushed at the powder with his thumb, making a few tiny flakes flutter away. “But how...” His voice dissolved into incoherent mutters. Jeremy just looked at the small particles circling in the air. They looked like flour, or ash, or-

“Spores.” He said suddenly. Michael looked up from his slow picking.

“Spores?”

“Spores!” Jeremy gasped. “The – the smoke! At the Dillinger Building! The magnet shuts off, releases the powder as smoke, except it’s not powder, it’s metal, tiny computers, _spores_ , _that’s_ how the SQUIP got that chip in my brain, _I breathed it in!”_

“Wait, whoa, slow your roll!” Michael said quickly. “I was at Dillinger, too, I haven’t had any Keanu Reeves assholes in my brain! Plus, if Rich has the same thingamajig as you, how come he’s the one being a dick and you’re the one hanging with the offbrand Matrix dude?”

Fuck, that was right. Jeremy deflated in his seat.

“I don’t...” He frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Hey, it’s cool, man.” Michael smiled gently. “It’s a start, at least. We just gotta think about this stuff, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy sighed. “What else can you get from it?”

“Well...” Michael hummed, rummaging in his drawers. He pulled out a little metal rectangle. Almost immediately, the spores fled from the pill to the piece of metal. Michael squawked, dropping the cluster of powder to the floor unceremoniously.

“Well!” He yelped, clutching his hand to his chest. “Magnet works!”

“Magnet?” Jeremy frowned.

“Yeah, man.” Michael said, looking over the bare shell of the pill. “Strong magnet trumps weak ass pill magnet. Physics, dude, didn’t you know that?”

“Of course I know that!” He huffed. “I just - I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

“Dude, don’t jinx us!” Michael gasped, knocking on the wood of his desk quickly. “There. Knock on wood. I just saved our lives.”

“Michael-“

“I know, I’m sorry!” He groaned. “I use humour as a coping mechanism! This shit is fucked up, man!”

“Yeah, I know.” Jeremy sighed. He shouldn’t’ve gotten Michael roped into this.

“Hey.” Michael said seriously. “I’m helping you through this. You’re my best friend and my boyfriend.” _Boyfriend._ “Let’s just figure this out, yeah? I mean, we still haven’t really solved anything yet.”

He was still pissed. He’d made that pretty clear.

He had a right to be, though.

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded sullenly. “Yeah, okay.”

As Michael continued to tinker with the pill, Jeremy’s eyes wandered to Nutmeg on the couch. She glared at him. He glared back. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. He quickly looked away.

Fuck.

He’d been defeated.

It wasn’t that Nutmeg was a bad dog. She was a very good dog. Michael adored her, she was his best friend, next to Jeremy and Rich of course. She was cute, too; an adorable little thing, with chocolate curls, a pink nose and a missing leg. Michael had fallen in love with her the moment he saw her in the shelter, and she him. For Michael, Nutmeg was basically a bodyguard who protected him from assholes and gave good cuddles.

The problem was, she seemed to think Jeremy was one of the assholes Michael needed protection from.

It happened _all the time_. If he were in a room with Michael alone, she’d be in with them, watching him. If he got too close to Michael, she’d shove her way in between them. If she thought he was making Michael uncomfortable, she’d growl and bark at him until he went away. The last one was good sometimes, because Michael had a habit of not telling Jeremy when he was uncomfortable, and that way Jeremy could tell when he was, but sometimes she would do it when Michael wasn’t uncomfortable at all! One day, they’d just been playing MarioKart in Michael’s basement. Michael had won, and was doing some silly victory dance he came up with on the spot, and Jeremy couldn’t help but look at him fondly because _oh sweet Jesus how did this boy exist_. And then Nutmeg jumped in front of Michael defensively and barked until Jeremy and Michael were forced to run out of the basement and hide in Michael’s room.

Actually, now that Jeremy thought about it, she was probably barking for a different reason.

He pouted, pillowing his head on his arms on the desk. Cockblocked by a fucking dog and he hadn’t even realised. Now _that_ was a new low.

“Got it!” Michael grinned, gently prying away one half of the shell. “Jesus, this shit is advanced.”

“Wait.” Jeremy frowned, peering at the pills wiry guts. “I know this.”

Michael frowned in return.

“I thought you said you hadn’t seen this tech before?”

“Not the finished thing, but I definitely know this circuit.” Jeremy mumbled, realisation flickering in his eyes. “This is – oh my god...”

“Jeremy?”

“This is my mom’s work.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Even Nutmeg looked concerned.

“Jeremy...” Michael said carefully. “... What are you saying?”

“This stuff, this whole _thing_!” He gestured to the circuit board, hoodie sleeves flapping widly. “It’s in my mom’s lab, I _saw_ this!”

“Hey! Slow down!” Michael said quickly. “You gotta give me more detail, Jer.”

Jeremy screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He tried to think.

“Okay...” He said quietly. “This – this board. I-I saw a diagram of it in my mom’s lab, w-when we were clearing it out, I – I didn’t know what it was, but it’s the _exact same!”_

“Hey.” Michael tapped his shoulder gently. “Keep it cool, man.”

“I don’t-“ His hand flew to his hair, tugging slightly, trying to convince himself this isn’t actually real. “How does he have my mom’s work?”

“I...” Michael’s face was a mix of confusion and concern. “I don’t _know_ , Jer.”

Jeremy stood suddenly.

“We need to go.”

“What?” Michael frowned. “Go, go where – Jeremy, hey, _where are you going?!”_

“We need to _go_ , Michael!” Jeremy repeated, racing for the stairs. “We need to go, right now – hey!”

Michael tugged on Jeremy’s arm, pulling him back.

“Not until you tell me what’s going through your weirdass head!”

Jeremy growled, not at Michael, but at himself.

“My mom’s lab.” He said finally, finding the link between his brain and his mouth. “If he has her tech, then there has to be something in her work that can explain all this.”

“Jeremy. You gotta think, here.” Michael said in a firm but careful tone. “It’s dark out. We can’t be going anywhere now. Besides, you already packed up and put away your mom’s stuff, it’ll take way too long to go down to storage and look through it all. And no offense but...” He made a small gesture at them both. “I don’t think either of us is emotionally stable enough to go anywhere right now.”

Jeremy sighed, feeling even more deflated with Michael’s massive hoodie swallowing him.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“It’s a curse.” Michael smiled, though his eyes still looked pained. “Look, Jer – today’s been a fucking crapstorm of a day.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Shut up, I’m giving a moving speech.” Michael scolded lightly. “So today’s sucked. And a lot of stuff isn’t great right now. But let’s just – can we just forget about that? Just for one fucking second, can we just pretend we’re normal teenagers who go on dates and kiss and do stupid shit and no bad shit is happening? Please?”

God, Jeremy loved him so fucking much.

“Yeah.” He smiled sadly. “Of course, Micah.”

Michael smiled back. Jeremy felt his heart melt.

“C’mon, dumbass.” He laughed gently, pulling Jeremy to the mattress he’d shoved in the corner. Jeremy didn’t understand why Michael still had his bedroom. The basement was basically his own tiny apartment.

Michael pulled him down onto the mattress and let them both curl up under his Space Invader sheets. Jeremy tried to give Michael his own space – judging by how Michael had fled the moment Jeremy’d tried to initiate any contact, it was probably best if he let Michael take the reins on this one.

Jeremy lay stiff on his side, wanting to at least be able to look at Michael if he couldn’t touch him. Michael slipped off his glasses, not bothering to take off his day clothes, and curled into Jeremy’s chest, so that his nose was just resting on the taller boy’s collarbone.

“Quit it.” He mumbled, nuzzling further into Jeremy’s clavicle. “Just pretend, yeah?”

Jeremy still hesitated, his hand awkwardly clenching the bedsheet beneath him. Michael rolled his eyes and grabbed Jeremy’s arms, wrapping them around him so that Jeremy was holding him to his chest. Jeremy paused for a moment, before letting his hands settle on Michael’s waist and pulling him in closer.

He glanced over Michael’s shoulder at Nutmeg, still perched on the couch. She looked at him for a moment, searching. A small look of satisfaction flickered in her eyes, before she jumped to the ground, stumbling slightly on her three legs, and trotted back upstairs.

Jeremy didn’t focus on it too much. He was too busy soaking in Michael’s warmth and softness. He pressed a soft kiss to his hair. He could pretend.

Just for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy we figured out how stuff's happeningggg
> 
> i kinda realized i made a massive mistake with jake because if he was at dillinger then he'd also have a squip which means he shouldn't have been talking to jeremy
> 
> oops
> 
> i have no idea where to go from here
> 
> aaaaaaahhhhhhhh there are so many plotholes i hate this


	9. Mistakes Are Made But For Sort Of Good Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy had always thought waking up next to Michael would be a magical experience.
> 
> Instead, he got a scream and a pillow to the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof

Jeremy had thought a lot about what it would be like to wake up next to Michael. He’d always pictured it with him waking up first, and watching Michael sleep for a bit because god _damn_ he looked so cute when he was asleep, then pressing kisses all over his face because he just couldn’t help it. Then Michael would wake up and laugh at him and call him an idiot but in that special voice he used when Jeremy did something that truly touched him. And then maybe they’d kiss, and get up and get ready for the day, and it would be sickeningly domestic but they wouldn’t care because it would be _them_ , together.

Instead, he got scream and a pillow to the face.

Jeremy squawked, flailing wildly as he fell off the mattress.

“Michael!” He shrieked. “What the hell?!”

“Off!” Michael yelled, tossing a Blinky plush at his head.

“What?!”

“Hoodie! Off! Now!” Michael snapped, punctuating each word with a plushie.

Jeremy narrowly missed being hit by a stuffed PokeBall.

“What?!” He repeated. “What’s wrong with me wearing your hoodie!? You were fine with it yesterday!”

“Yeah, well!” He’d run out of plushies to throw. “Yesterday I wasn’t mad. Now I am!”

“You _weren’t_ mad?!”

“W-well, no!” Michael huffed. “I mean - I _was_ mad, but then you were sad and I didn’t like that and I wanted to make you feel better ‘cause I hate seeing you sad but now you’re not sad and I’m mad!”

“You make no sense!” Jeremy yelled. “What does this have to do with the hoodie?!”

“It has everything to do with the hoodie!” Michael retorted. “You have absolutely no right being this cute, this early, when I am this pissed!”

“Um.” Jeremy felt both flustered and frustrated. He was flusterated. “Okay?”

He shrugged the hoodie off, placing on the mattress cautiously. Michael glared at his pillow, refusing to meet Jeremy’s eyes and snatched the hoodie back.

“Michael-“

“Breakfast!” Michael yelled suddenly, leaping off the bed and dragging Jeremy up the basement stairs.

“I – what?!”

“Breakfast!” Michael repeated, shoving Jeremy to the kitchen table and causing him to nearly kick poor Nutmeg in the head. “I’m making breakfast. You want pancakes? I’m gonna make the best fucking pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“I thought you were pissed?!”

“Yeah, well, I’m also Turkish, and Turks are feeders, so deal with it!” Michael countered, busying himself with gathering the ingredients. Nutmeg met Jeremy’s eye under the table. They both looked at Michael with concern.

“You’re Filipino-?“

“Do _not!”_ Michael snapped, pointing at Jeremy accusingly with a spatula. “Lecture _me!_ On _my_ ethnicity! That is my parent’s job!”

Jeremy could only nod anxiously. This was not going well.

As Michael prepared the batter in the most aggressive way possible (he was going to get shell in it if he kept cracking the eggs like that), Jeremy fidgeted in his seat. He probably should’ve grabbed his phone or something, anything to give him a reason not to look at Michael’s face.

“How big do you want ‘em?”

“Um!” Jeremy started, not expecting Michael to be the one to speak first. “I, uh. I don’t mind.”

Michael muttered something under his breath and poured the batter onto the griddle. Jeremy winced at the hiss it made.

“So, um.” He mumbled, desperately wishing to break the silence. “Is, uh. Is your phone okay?”

“My phone?” Michael’s voice was tight. Like he was holding back. Nutmeg curled further into herself under the table.

“Yeah. You, um, d-dropped it?”

Michael prodded at one of the pancakes with the spatula.

“Oh, yeah.” He said offhandedly. “Screen’s cracked but, yknow. Still works.”

“Oh.” Jeremy nodded. “Good.”

The room dissolved into silence, save for the occasional flip of a pancake.

“There.” Michael said, dumping a small plate on the table. “Breakfast.”

Jeremy frowned at his plate. The pancakes were about the size of a bottle cap.

“You said you didn’t mind how big they were.” Michael shrugged, taking a bite of his own (average sized) pancake.

“Uh. Yeah.” Jeremy popped one in his mouth. Best not to piss Michael off even more.

“You thirsty?”

“Oh, not really-“

“Jeremy, are you fucking thirsty?”

Jeremy swallowed audibly.

“Um. A little?”

“You want some water?”

“Y-yes, please.”

Michael’s chair screeched as he pushed it from the table, grabbing a glass and striding to the fridge. He emptied the icecube tray into the cup and slammed it on the table forcefully.

“Wait.”

Jeremy sighed and licked one of his icecubes pathetically.

“Refreshing.”

“Fuck off and eat your damn pancakes.”

“Look, Michael, I get that you’re mad-“

“Understatement of the fucking century-“

“But I really am sorry!” Jeremy pressed on, instinctively reaching across the table to grab Michael’s hand. Michael yanked his hand away, hiding under the table. Jeremy wanted to punch himself.

“I know that, Jer.” Michael sighed. “But yesterday, we didn’t have the whole – big blowout thing. And now I’ve got a bunch of left over pissed-off-ness and I know it’s not fair to take it out on you the day after it all happened but I have to or I think I’m gonna explode.”

Jeremy sighed and picked at his miniscule pancakes.

“I get that.” He said after a moment of silence. “And you deserve to be angry, but...”

Michael looked at him expectantly. Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek.

“Do you-“ He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

Michael looked away, pushing the remnants of his breakfast around his plate.

“I think so. Maybe. But right now I wanna be a dick, so.”

Jeremy nodded, looking back at his pancakes.

“That’s fair.”

oOo

Jeremy had hoped things would die down a little once they got to school.

As usual, life decided to bitchslap Jeremy in the face with a raw salmon.

“Hey, tall ass!” Not Rich sneered as he and Michael plodded to their lockers. “Those your little boyfriends clothes? Looks like someone’s doing the walk of shame!”

Michael slammed his locker forcefully.

“Hey Rich, didn’t you once say you’d nail Andy Biersack if you had the chance?” He snapped. “I think you said something about emo guys being sexy as fuck?”

Not Rich blanched and gritted his teeth. He took a step towards them, and Jeremy braced for a hit.

“Whoa, cool it, Richie boy!”

Jeremy never thought he’d say this, but thank god for Jake Dillinger.

“They’re just nerds, man.” Jake laughed, giving his best plastic smile and slinging an arm over Not Rich’s shoulders. “Not worth the trouble, yknow?”

Not Rich frowned, glancing from them to Jake. Jeremy could almost see the circuits working in his brain.

“Watch it.” He snarled, stalking past them. Jake’s movie star smile didn’t falter as he looked at them, though his eyes showed silent concern. Jeremy nodded in thanks. Jake nodded back, and then he was gone.

“... Okay.” Michael said stiffly. “Okay, yeah, we’re going.”

“Going?” Jeremy frowned as Michael grabbed his arm, pulling him through the sea of students. “Going where?”

“Your mom’s lab. We’re fixing Rich, and we’re fixing him _now_.”

“But – Michael!” Jeremy squeaked. “My mom’s lab isn’t even my mom’s lab anymore! They’ll’ve given it to someone else by now, I don’t -“

“Then we go to that fucking storage place or whatever!” Michael snapped, still dragging him to the car. “We need to figure out how to get Rich back, and right now, she’s the best lead we have, so Jeremy, with all due respect, _get in the god damn car.”_

Jeremy got in the god damn car.

“Directions?” Michael said shortly as he slammed his door and started the car.

“Head to the docks.”

They drove in silence, Michael’s hands clenched around the wheel and Jeremy awkwardly fidgeting in his seat, shooting glances at Michael occasionally. His face was set in a stony scowl and his knuckles had gone white with his iron grip.

“Michael, pull over.”

Michael frowned, finally looking at him.

“What? Why?”

“Just pull over. Now.”

Michael stopped the car next to a dingy bus stop and a questionable sushi place that was definitely lying about their reviews.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Yell at me.”

“What?”

“You said that the reason you’re pissed is because we didn’t have the big blowout thing.” Jeremy stated simply. “Well. Now we can.” He spread out his arms in a surrender gesture. “Yell at me.”

“Wh- Jeremy, I’m not gonna-”

“Hey Michael, what’s your ethnicity?”

“Mother _fucker_.” Michael growled. “Okay, fine, you want to me yell? I’ll fucking yell.”

“Go ahead.”

“I _am!”_ Michael snapped. “Look, you - you just - you can’t fucking do that, Jeremy! All that time, you were just - you were going behind my back! And I know that you were doing it to protect me or whatever, I _know_ that, but - everything you said! Like, how you asked if I was interested in anyone, or, or that night at the warehouse, or how you’d - f-flirt with me, it’s just-!” He cut himself off, bracing himself against the steering wheel as he deflated. “I’m sorry, Jeremy, but it just felt like you were using me. Or - or something, I don’t know.”

Jeremy made a small, heartbroken noise in the back of his throat.

“And I know you weren’t - I know that’s not what you meant.” Michael said quickly. “But it’s just… How it felt.”

Jeremy swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Michael.” He whispered, letting his hand slowly drag across the console and bump into Michael’s own gently. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“I know.” Michael mumbled, still not looking at him, but not moving his hand, either. “‘S just how it felt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He didn’t say it was okay. Because it wasn’t, not really. Maybe it would be, later on, but as of then, it really, really wasn’t.

The car started up again, and they kept driving. Michael didn’t hold his hand, but he didn’t move it away. And that was something.

oOo

“Whoa."

 _Whoa_ was correct.

Jeremy’d known his mother had done a lot. Like, a _lot_ a lot. It’d taken him almost a week to clear out her entire lab. But he’d forgotten just how… _Intimidating_ her work was.

Shelves reached up all four walls of the storage unit to the very top of the ceiling, each one filled to the point of bursting with various experiments, textbooks and prototypes. At least three massive boxes were tucked into each corner, some tearing at the corners because of how many notes, diagrams, you name it, had been stuffed into them. It was honestly kind of scary to look at.

“Well.” Michael shrugged, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s get digging. You take boxes, I’ll take shelves?”

“Uh - no.” Jeremy said, knocking himself out of his trance. “I’m taller, I’ll take shelves.”

Michael mumbled something about ‘shortphobia’ but goes to the boxes anyways.

Jeremy felt himself be drawn to the prototypes and models on the crumbly wooden shelves. It was an honest to god miracle they hadn’t all collapsed, what with all the heavy machines and devices piled on them.

He picked up a small robotic mouse. He remembered that. His mother had made it for him when he was four, maybe five. It wasn’t anything special - you wound up the little screw on its back, it would roll across the surface and it’s little LED eyes would flash - just a silly wind-up toy to keep baby Jeremy busy when he was bothering his parents too much. He probably should’ve kept it. But when he’d packed up his mother’s stuff, he couldn’t help but remember all those times she’d shut him out. All those times she’d been sat at her desk, declaring _this is the next big thing, Paul, I know it!,_ and telling Jeremy to go play outside or go ask his father, _mommy’s busy right now, sweetie._

He should’ve been thrilled with the little mouse. He was, at first. Because she’d cared. She’d taken time to make him something, just for him.

But it kind of hurt that she never bothered to play with him herself.

 _“I think she loved her research more than me.”_ He’d confessed one day in Michael’s basement, when they’d first started entering the feelsy part of their friendship. It was a huge bomb to drop. They were a good few years into middleschool, fourteen at most, only just realising that they were allowed to actually share their feelings with each other even though toxic masculinity said they couldn’t. For any other guy, it probably would’ve been too much to handle. They probably would’ve laughed it off, or made a joke, or just nod politely and not speak to him again out of sheer awkwardness.

Michael wasn’t any other guy.

 _“Then that’s her problem.”_ He’d insisted, curling an arm over Jeremy’s shoulder. _“Not yours.”_

Jeremy’d cried a lot that day. He’d felt like an idiot. He wasn’t supposed to cry. Little kids cried, and despite how much he wanted to be, he wasn’t a kid anymore. No, he had to grow up, learn how the world worked, learn that life wasn’t fair, no matter how badly you wanted it to be. But Michael had been there, to hold him close and dry his tears, and offer him chocolate when he was done. And although it hadn’t fixed everything at the time, it was still comforting to know he had Michael there to help him through his down days.

“Yo Jer, I think I found something!”

Jeremy jolted and slammed the mouse down on the shelf, hard. It’s tiny head came loose and rolled off the chipped wood of the shelf, clattering to the floor. One of the LEDs burst from it’s head. An ear came loose and made a little _tink tink tink_ noise as it spun around and fell.

Huh.

“Oh, shit!” Michael winced. “Sorry, man, I-I can fix that, I promise-!”

“It’s fine.” Jeremy shrugged. Wow. He actually meant it. “What’d you find?”

“Buncha files. I would’ve skipped past them, but look.” Michael handed him a stack of papers, tapping the binder cover. “Right there. ‘NTCC Media Unlimited’. Didn’t that Keanu Reeves freak say something about that?”

“Yeah...” Jeremy frowned, flipping through the binder. It was huge, packed to the brim with notes, paper scraps, full essays and diagrams. It would take ages to look through it all.

“And that’s not even the only one!” Michael dug around in the box again, producing three more equally thick binders, each labelled ‘NTCC Media Unlimited #1, #2, #3’. “I think we just hit the motherload, bro!”

“And on the first box...” Jeremy mumbled, skimming the files. There was so much information, he could barely look at it without his brain starting to go fuzzy. “Talk about lucky...”

Michael rapped his fist against Jeremy’s head.

“Wh- hey!” Jeremy whined, leaning away and messing his hair back to its original state. “Dude, what was that for?!”

“You jinxed us.” Michael grinned impishly. “So. Knock on wood.”

Jeremy gaped at him.

“You little whore.”

Michael burst into a laughing fit.

“Hey, no!” Jeremy protested, prodding Michael’s shoulder. “Okay, just for that, you get the big files!”

NTCC Media Unlimited files one and two landed at Michael’s feet. He shrugged, setting them on a box as a table.

“Worth it.”

oOo

It’d been hours.

They’d managed to piece together certain notes and small bits of information, but the diagrams made next to no sense and all the essays were written like comic-book technobabble. It made no sense! The notes didn’t make sense, the diagrams and models looked like something straight out of an over-the-top spy film , and as far as Jeremy could tell, the equations, the symbols, the technology they were working with... It didn’t _exist!_

However, despite there being many missing pieces of the puzzle, it still boiled down to this.

“It’s a literal chill pill.” Michael stated into the silence of the room, saying what they already knew. “It gives you all the information you need. For everything.”

“The quantum computer gets absorbed into your veins.” Jeremy continued, eyes travelling across the papers. “It travels through your blood until it implants itself in your brain, and it-“ He swallowed. “It tells you what to do.”

“For _everything._ ” Michael repeated, staring at the notes in front of him in a mix of shock, horror and awe. “It’s literally – it’s in the name! Neuro Technology Computer Circuit: Media Unlimited – a computer inside your brain, giving you all the unlimited information you need. It was right in front of us the whole time...”

“A whole AI built inside your head.” Jeremy mumbled, not even talking to Michael anymore. “And its sole purpose is to... Make you cool.”

“So now we know why Rich is so weird now.” Michael said, numb. “He has an actual. Thing. In his head. Telling him what to do. Ever since Dillinger, with that weird smoke – the spores...”

“No.” Jeremy frowned. “No, it wasn’t since the field trip. He started ghosting us on the group chat about two weeks ago.”

“So what? The spores have a delay before the activate the computer, or something?”

“I – no, I...” Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know.”

Michael frowned, eying Jeremy with concern.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. All we gotta do now is figure out how to shut it down. Then we can just – just...” He cut himself off with a massive yawn.

“Dude.” Jeremy complained as his eyelids felt suddenly heavier. “Now I’m tired!”

“Sorry, bro.” Michael smiled sheepishly. “How about we do shifts? I’ll do about, like, an hour and a half of research while you rest, then I’ll wake you up and we’ll switch, yeah?”

“It’d be quicker for us both to look through it together...”

“It’d be healthier for us to rest.” Michael said, in that rare tone that meant he’d already come to his decision and nothing Jeremy could do could make him change his mind.

“... Fine.” Jeremy sighed. “But you sleep first! You’re clearly more tired than I am.” He poked the bags under Michael’s eyes for emphasis.

“No, Jer-“

 _“Rest_ , Michael!” Jeremy said playfully, but still firm, shrugging off the jacket he’d stolen from Michael’s room for Michael to use as a pillow. “Seriously. I’ll be fine. I’m used to being up late, yknow? Superhero duty and all that.”

Judging by the way Michael tensed, and how his eyes flickered with hurt, that was probably the wrong thing to say.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, burrowing into his jacket-pillow. “Night, Jer.”

“It’s like, four-thirty.”

“Piss off, I’m a depressed teenager. If I say it’s night, it’s night.”

Jeremy chuckled, wanting to reach out and rub Michael’s back gently, or card his fingers through his hair. He forced his hands to stay at his sides. Right now, Michael called the shots. That’s what was fair. Jeremy wasn’t going to make him uncomfortable by pushing him when he’d already dropped a massive bomb on Michael like this.

Michael called the shots.

He wouldn’t mess this up. Not again.

oOo

It was another hour before anything important happened.

It wasn’t a piece of information, or another break through. No, not that. Just the asshole who’d made it his job to fuck up Jeremy’s life screwing him over again.

_Abandoned rail tracks. Now._

It was a short message. Shorter than the others. And it felt weaker than when the SQUIP had spoken to him before. Like he was straining to send the message.

_Come now. Urgent._

Jeremy felt his head go empty. The SQUIP was gone. For now.

“Michael.” He murmured, turning to nudge his boyfriend awake. “Michael, wake up, we gotta-“

“Mph...” Michael mumbled sleepily, turning his head to the side so his cheek squished and his glasses went crooked. Jeremy tried not to explode.

“Michael?” Jeremy pressed, quieter this time. Michael looked so peaceful like this...

“Moon...” Michael slurred. Jeremy frowned, trying to figure out why Michael was mumbling about the moon at five thirty.

“Moon landing’s faked...” Michael said into his jacket pillow. “The – the lizards...”

“Are you...” Jeremy was whispering now. “Michael, are you awake?”

“No, go ‘way...” Michael’s voice was syrupy with sleep, and his eyes still wouldn’t open. “Landing was faked... Aliens in the – the gov’rnm’n’...”

Okay.

Michael was asleep. Michael talked in his sleep.

That was.

Insanely cute.

Jeremy felt his mouth spreading into a grin. He took out his phone, typing a quick message.

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Did you know you talk in your sleep? We’ve had like, a billion sleepovers and I never knew that.**

**It’s nothing weird. Just something about the moon landing, and aliens, and stuff. Just like normal, yknow?**

**It’s kinda weird texting you when we’re literally right across from each other.**

**Also you’re asleep.**

**Is it weird to text you when you’re asleep?**

Jeremy sighed, risking another glance at Michael slumbering peacefully next to him.

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**I really like you, Michael.**

**Like, I love you like you. You know that, right?**

**I just want to keep you safe. And I’m kinda scared that I can’t do that anymore. Do you get that?**

**I dunno man. I’m tired. I’ll probably delete these when I’m, like, sound of mind.**

“No smoking!” Michael snapped, slapping Jeremy’s phone out of his hand.

Jeremy bit his lip to keep himself from laughing, because there was no way, _no way_ that Michael Mell, proud stoner jedi, Obi Weed Kenobi, had just said that. He bit his lip a little harder. Michael was just so – _cute_! And sweet, and good, and perfect, and, and...

Jeremy couldn’t bring him into this.

He couldn’t risk Michael getting hurt. Especially not because of him.

Even if it meant breaking his trust.

Jeremy tugged off his clothes, leaving his SpiderMan suit underneath. It was torn, and a little bloody, and the left over sweat and grime from last night made it stick and chafe uncomfortably. He tugged on his mask, tip-toeing to the door of the storage unit and-

“Jer...”

Jeremy froze in his tracks.

Michael smiled softly in his sleep, nuzzling further into his jacket.

“Jeremy...” He mumbled. “Jeremy...”

Jeremy’s heart didn’t just melt, it evaporated. He grabbed his phone. He couldn’t just go without saying goodbye.

**New Message to; PlayerOneMell**

**Michael, I love you. Okay? You know I do. And no matter what, I’ll always want to keep you safe.**

**I’m doing this for you. It might be stupid, you’ll probably hate me for this, but everything I’m doing is to keep you and everyone else I care about safe.**

**I love you, Michael. I really am sorry. This is just something I have to do.**

With that, he left, slinging a web and disappearing into the shadows.

This was the right thing to do.

oOo

**Missed Call from; PlayerOneMell**

**(2) Missed Calls from; PlayerOneMell**

**New Message from; PlayerOneMell**

**jreemy im gonna fuckign kill you you fguckin idiot**

**your gonna get yourself killed jermey come back right now**

**ANSWER YORU GODDAMN HPONE JEREMY**

**listen to me this is important the keanu squip is a hub**

**do yoi get that? HES A HUB**

**DO NOT GO NEAR HIM**

**DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU CANT GO NEAR HIM**

**HES A HUB**

**(3) Missed Calls from; PlayerOneMell**

**JEREMY ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE YOURE GONNA GET YOURSELF KILLED**

**jeremy pick up right now**

**jeremy please i looked through the files you don’t know what you’re up against**

**he’s not just one of those pills, he’s adapted**

**he’s an ai jeremy, he’s LEARNING**

**he’s adapted himself jeremy** **he took over his host**

**there’s a whole lawsuit about it if you’d just stayed to read it**

**he’s going to kill you jeremy STAY AWAY FROM HIM**

**(4) Missed Calls from; PlayerOneMell**

**jeremy pick up**

**please jeremy**

**if you’re alive, pick up the phone, NOW**

**(5) Missed Calls from; PlayerOneMell**

**please jeremy just pick up**

**youd better not be dead you asshole**

**jeremy**

**pick up the phone**

**please**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> should probably mention that the sleeptalking bit was inspired (*cough* stolen *cough*) by a dear evan hansen fic called the desperate type and it’s amazing go read it thaaaaanks


	10. Final Level

The abandoned railroads were pretty well known around Middleborough. They had been built in 19-whatever, but had to be closed due to… Something, Jeremy didn’t know. The council said the station was too expensive to destroy, but Jeremy’s fathers father had said that the town council was just too lazy to do anything about it.

The tracks were notorious for three things; drugs dealing, drug using, and being the last known whereabouts of a Mr Eric Williams, who’d disappeared some time in 2003 when he was around Jeremy’s age. People said they’d seen him around the railroads and never seen him again. It’d spawned a lot of horror stories that were usually about him being horrifically murdered and haunting the railroads forever, hoping to get other children horrifically murdered.

Oh, and making out. It was also really well known for making out.

Jeremy never went by the old railroads. If he was heading somewhere past there, he’d deliberately go around them. He didn’t really want to be peer pressured into doing drugs, besides weed with Michael. Or horrifically murdered. Or made out with.

But he supposed the SQUIP was an edgy bitch, because naturally that was were they had to meet.

He webbed off a building, ducking into a practiced roll as he hit the ground, and landed gracefully on his feet (he kind of wished Michael had been around to see that, he’d been practicing it for a while). The shadowy shapes of the abandoned train station loomed above him. Jeremy gulped.

“Uh…” He mumbled, stepping cautiously into the station. “Hello?”

His voice echoed off the peeling walls. Two towering staircases loomed on either side of him, their rails rusted and steps cracked, leading to the second floor of the station, which was basically just crumbling ruins by now. The floors were littered with mould, bottles, crisp packets, lighters and syringes, which always made Jeremy cringe. A large, dusty chandelier hung precariously above him, tilted at an angle that made Jeremy anxious just looking at. All the windows were either boarded up, cracked, covered in dirt and grime, or all three, so only a few flickers of light streaked into the station.

The hairs on Jeremy’s arms prickled. His instincts screamed at him to run.

He clenched his fists tightly.

“I know you’re in here!” He yelled in what he hoped was an intimidating manner. Fear bubbled in his throat. He stuffed it down. “Show yourself!”

The doors creaked shut behind him.

Jeremy stiffened, fear tensing his muscles, and sprinted to the doors, prying and pulling on them hard. Even his spider strength wouldn’t open them. It was like they were being held down by some sort of pulse from the outside…

 _I told you, Jeremy._ A voice echoed in his head. _I have a job to do._

“Wh… Where are you?!” Jeremy called out. The SQUIP was smart. If his voice was only in Jeremy’s head, Jeremy wouldn’t be able to hear where he was.

Bastard.

 _I won’t let you get in my way, Jeremy._ His voice was louder now. It reverberated through Jeremy’s mind. _I chose you because I thought you’d be a valuable asset to my plan. But now your cons are outweighing your pros._

“Stop being cryptic!” Jeremy snapped. “It’s really annoying, dude! Just say what you mean like a normal person!”

_What I **mean** is, you’ve become an obstacle. You’re standing in the way of my goal._

Well, that was foreboding. Jeremy moved slowly to the centre of the station, his head flicking back and forth, his spider senses tingling, trying to identify where the SQUIP was hiding.

_You’re of no use to me anymore, Jeremy. The only reason I kept you alive was because of your mutation. I thought my spores could’ve magnified it, made you stronger, but it seems I was wrong._

“The point, please?”

_The point is, you’re useless to me. I told you, Jeremy, I have a job to do, and I will not let you get in my way. You’ve defied me for the last time._

Uh oh. If Jeremy’s knowledge of movies, video games, and the melodramatic bad guys he fought weekly was accurate, this was where the villain jumped out and made their big attack. He tensed, waiting for the SQUIP to jump out of hiding.

Nothing.

“Uh, dude?” Jeremy frowned. “Are you new to this whole bad guy thing? I was kinda expecting a big fight scene here.”

“Don’t worry.” A new voice said in the shadows. It wasn’t the SQUIP – this one was different. Familiar, but – strangely wrong… “You’ll get one.”

Not Rich stepped out of the shadows.

“He tried warning you, y’know.” Not Rich grinned, his eyes dead and soulless, like a doll. “He was so _annoying_ about it. ‘But they’re my friends, SQUIP! You can’t do this, SQUIP! I don’t like this anymore, SQUIP!’” He cried, his voice morphing into Rich’s regular voice. Jeremy felt a sob bubble in his throat.

“Pathetic, isn’t he?” The SQUIP continued. “He just wanted to be part of a group, you know. Included.”

“He was included.” Jeremy spat. “He was one of us, you – you ruined him!”

“I did as he asked!” He roared, his eyes flashing bright blue. “All he wanted was to be like you and Michael, but _oh_ , no! You two were far to caught up in your little love drama! Well, I gave him the next best thing. And look at that! He was so much better off without you two.”

“That’s a lie!”

“Is it?!” The SQUIP laughed maniacally. “Didn’t you see him, Jeremy? People actually liked him when he wasn’t dragged down by you and your little friend. I helped him! I made him popular! But he wanted to throw that all away. Even though you and Michael just kept him on the sidelines out of pity, he still wanted to help you!”

“We never did that!” Jeremy cried. “He was our best friend!”

“You and Michael were the best friends.” The SQUIP growled. “Richard was just your little sidekick. He knew it. I knew it. And he still wanted to throw everything away for you. Like I said – pathetic. So,” He smiled, lifting up Rich’s arms like puppet limbs on strings. “I fixed him! Now he’s actually useful!”

“You ruined him.” Jeremy repeated, fists clenching. “Give him back! Now!”

“’Give him back’?” The SQUIP mocked. “Even now, you act like he belongs to you! I tried to tell him, I really did, but he just wouldn’t listen-“

“Shut up!” Jeremy screamed, sprinting at Rich’s body with full force. “Give him _back!”_

Rich’s face twisted into a smile. The SQUIP rose one of Rich’s hands and punched Jeremy square in the face, sending him flying to the ground. Jeremy yelped as he hit the floor, leaping back up despite the pain flaring in his face and shoulder. Rich’s body hadn’t even moved from where it was standing.

"You really think you can fight me?” Not Rich grinned. “Go ahead!” He spread his arms out. An open target. “Prove me right, Jeremy! Show your so called best friend exactly what he means to you!”

Jeremy faltered. He didn’t want to attack Rich, but if it meant getting the SQUIP out of him, he didn’t have a choice. But still… Jeremy didn’t know how far he’d have to go to beat the SQUIP out of him. Hell, he didn’t even know if it was possible! What if the SQUIP just terminated Rich before Jeremy could help him? Even worse, what if Jeremy got Rich killed trying to get the SQUIP out?

“Rich.” He said slowly. “I know you’re in there.”

“Seriously?” The SQUIP huffed, Rich’s arms flopping back to his sides. “You’re seriously doing the ‘I know you’re in there’ speech? And you said _I_ was generic when we first fought?”

“You need to listen to me. I can help you.”

“Ooh, are you going to do the ‘you’re stronger than this’ line? I bet you will. You’re very predictable, Jeremy.”

“You can beat him.” Jeremy continued, inching closer. He held one hand up in front of him, like he was approaching a spooked animal. “I know you can. You did it at school, when you warned me, remember? I _know_ you’re still there.”

“Oh, _god_.” The SQUIP sighed. “Okay. This is boring. I’m going to kill you now.”

Rich’s body charged at him, one hand grabbing Jeremy by the shoulder, the other fisting around his suit. He spun, pulling Jeremy off the ground with inhuman strength, and throwing him into the crumbling walls of the station. Jeremy’s body collided into the peeling wallpaper with a cloud of dust and drywall.

Jeremy spluttered, dust particles catching in his throat. His back burned in agony, like every muscle in his back had been pulled with a fishhook, as far as it could go, and snapped back into place.

“You’re not dead yet.” The SQUIP stated, like this was a small surprise to him. “I suppose you’re mutation’s stronger than I thought.”

Jeremy pulled himself up just as Not Rich charged at him again, head down like a bull. He flung his body to the side, the SQUIP digging Rich’s heels into the ground to keep him from ramming into the wall.

“His body’s not too great at manoeuvring in motion, is it?” The SQUIP frowned, charging at him again. Jeremy rolled onto his back, lifting his legs and kicking Rich’s body over him, wincing as Rich’s back collided with the ground. The SQUIP laughed, pulling Rich’s body back up.

“Ooh, he’ll be feeling that tomorrow, won’t he? If he’s still alive, of course.”

He charged again. Jeremy leaped over his head, slinging one web to the ceiling, one around Rich’s arms and waist, and tugged, hard. Rich’s body lifted up from the ground, and Jeremy quickly attached his web to the ceiling, so he dangled about four feet from the floor.

“Ugh!” The SQUIP grunted, writhing in the webs to no avail. “And I really didn’t want to waste them all, either…”

“Uh, what now?”

Rich’s body convulsed in the web, his mouth falling open in a silent scream. His eyes flashed blue again, electric currents spreading across his cheeks and forehead. He went limp.

The SQUIP chuckled under his breath.

“You really are oblivious, Jeremy.” He smiled, his soulless blue eyes locking with Jeremy’s. “All these clues, right in front of you, and you still don’t get it.”

A bottle rolled behind them.

“Should I spell it out?”

A crisp packet rustled.

“I. Own. You.”

Jeremy’s body moved against his will.

He came face to face with Jake Dillinger.

Jake’s leg spun with lightning speed, slamming into Jeremy’s ribcage and knocking him to the ground. A hand grabbed his mask, pulling him up to meet Chloe Valentine’s eyes. She smiled, and slammed his face onto the cracked tiles.

“I own _all_ of you.”

Suddenly, they all descended on him; Jenna Rolan, Dustin Kropp, Jared Kleinman, Madeline Garcia, Brooke Lohst, even meek little Evan Hansen from Biology. All of them. Everyone who was on the Dillinger Inc. trip that day. They pulled at his suit, clawed at his skin, bent his limbs. They wanted to _break_ him. He tried to fight back, he really did, but it was like his brain was disconnected from his body. He tried his hardest, but he couldn’t move.

That’s it, Jeremy thought as Christine – oh, _Christine –_ grabbed his throat and threw him at the station doors. He was going to die here.

Jeremy wished Michael were there. Michael. He always seemed to sneak his way into Jeremy’s mind, even when he was about to die. Jeremy wanted Michael with him so badly, wanted his laugh, his touch, his warmth, wanted _Michael_. He could almost hear Michael’s voice…

_“Michael makes an entrance!”_

Wait.

No.

That was Michael.

“Michael?!” Jeremy cried, ignoring the pain in his chest.

“Shut up!” Michael said quickly. “I may be saving your life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed!”

Their classmates edged towards them, growling like animals. Not Rich squirmed in his webs.

“Stay back!” Michael roared, pointing a red bottle at the oncoming hoard of SQUIP zombies. “I have a _severely_ out of date soft drink and I’m not afraid to use it!”

Well, Jeremy sighed to himself. At least they could die together.

But, surprisingly, it worked. The SQUIP zombies froze, edging away slowly.

“What the fuck?” Jeremy frowned.

“Do not ‘what the fuck’ me, I am ‘what the fuck’ing you right now!” Michael snapped. “What the fuck, Jeremy?! After I do that whole emotional speech thing about how I felt like you were using me, you leave me immediately after I give you the information you wanted?! Yeah, boyfriend of the year, everyone!”

“Is now really the time for this?!” Jeremy yelped, pulling himself to his feet. “The SQUIP is here! He SQUIPed all our friends!”

“Yeah, been there, done that, read the fucking file!”

“You knew?!”

“You would’ve too, if you’d bothered to stay and read the goddamn files!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Jeremy cried. “The SQUIP was in my mind and stuff and-!” He paused. “Why are we fighting when our lives are at stake here?”

“Oh, there’s _always_ an excuse with you, isn’t there?”

“Michael! Stop being a wife and help me!”

“I’m a _husband!”_ Michael growled, grabbing Jeremy’s face and shoving the drink to his lips. “Drink this.”

“What?!”

“It’s Mountain Dew Red! Look, I did my research, and I know it doesn’t make sense, but this is the cure! The SQUIP’s spores – I _said_ get back!” He snarled, waving the bottle in Dustin Kropp’s zombified face. He bared his teeth like a rabid dog, scampering back to the group of SQUIPed teenagers.

“As I was saying.” Michael sighed. “The SQUIP’s spores could only do so much by themselves. So they just plant an instinct in your brain – to drink Mountain Dew. _That’s_ why everyone was craving it so bad! It boosts the spores signal and lets it completely hotwire your brain – the only thing to shut it down is Mountain Dew Red!”

“What?!” Jeremy said again. “But – why Mountain Dew?”

“Apparently the company sponsored the project to boost sales before they realised it was batshit insane - that’s not the point!” Michael snapped, shaking his head as if to shake away all his distracting thoughts. “Look, just drink this, okay?!” He sighed, shoving the bottle in Jeremy’s face. Jeremy gagged subconsciously.

“I-“ He gasped. He needed to get away from that bottle. “I-I can’t, Michael, I-“

“It’s the SQUIP.” Michael insisted. “It’s forcing you to be repulsed by it so you won’t shut it down. You _have_ to fight it, Jeremy.”

 _Don’t listen to him!_ The SQUIP roared from inside his head. _He’s wrong, he’s a liar, he never really cared about you, get away from him **now**!_

Jeremy almost gave in. He wanted to. Wanted to shove Michael and that gross bottle away from him, as far as he could. But then he looked into Michael’s eyes, saw his raw honesty, his trust that had always stayed there no matter how many times Jeremy had broken it.

Michael would never lie to him.

He reached for the bottle. His fingers just grazed it, before a body slammed into his and shoved him and Michael to the floor.

The SQUIPs Keanu Reeves body towered above them.

“Shit.” Jeremy mumbled, remembering how the doors had felt like they’d been forced shut by some kind of pulse.

A pulse coming from the _outside_.

“Uh. One more thing…” Michael whispered as they edged away from the SQUIPs tall, shadowy body. “He’s the hub.”

A pulse sent them both flying backwards.

“Oh, _clever!”_   Not Rich mocked. “How long did it take you to figure that one out?”

“He’s the what?!” Jeremy gasped, sprawled across one of the staircases.

“The hub!” Michael cried a few steps above him, clutching his chest. “He’s – He’s the powerhouse, Jeremy, the central unit, the queen bee – he controls all of them!”

Suddenly, Jeremy remembered the pull in his gut, the SQUIPs voice in his head. The voice that would only appear when the SQUIP was nearby.

“The closer you are…” Michael wheezed, coughing weakly. “The stronger his hold is on you.”

The SQUIP zombies charged up the stairs.

“Come on!” Jeremy yelped, wrapping his arm around Michael’s waist and webbing them to the chandelier. He flung them into a corner, shoving Michael behind him so that he was somewhat balanced against the wall.

“You can’t get close to him, Jer-“ Michael coughed again. Jeremy noticed a trail of blood trickling down his temple. “If – if you touches you…”

“Game over?” Jeremy prompted. Michael nodded.

“Game over.”

“The bottle.” Jeremy said as the SQUIP zombies gathered beneath them, searching for a way to reach their corner. “Give it to me. Now.”

Michael nodded behind him, patting down his pockets.

“Uh…”

“ _Now_ , Michael!”

“Looking for something?” Not Rich grinned as Keanu SQUIP cut him down from his webs. He placed his pointer and middle finger to Keanu SQUIPs temple. Both their eyes flashed blue, and they went limp, before Keanu SQUIP rose his head and grinned at them. He lifted his hand, shaking a red bottle.

“Fuck.” Jeremy whispered.

“Fuck, indeed.” The SQUIP grinned, unscrewing the cap an dumping the contents of the bottle onto the ground.

“No!” Michael gasped.

“Oh, yes!” The SQUIP cackled, sending a pulse straight at them. It hit Jeremy square in the chest, making him spasm and go limp.

“Jeremy!” Michael cried, wrapping his arms around Jeremy’s chest to keep him from falling. “Jeremy, come on!”

Jeremy blinked blearily behind his mask. He pressed further into the warmth behind him, tilting his head to look into Michael’s eyes.

“Micah?” He mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“Now is not the time to be cute!” Michael yelled, trying his best to keep them both balanced on the mouldings of the wall. “We’re gonna die here, Jer, do something!”

Jeremy blinked at him, one eye at a time.

“Damn you.” Michael growled, grabbing Jeremy’s arm. “Okay, how do I-“

A web shot to the ceiling, pulling them from the wall and making them swing above their classmates. Jenna Rolan grabbed at Michael’s leg, but he kicked her away, him and Jeremy landing clumsily in a heap on one of the staircases. _Again_.

“Michael?” Jeremy frowned, feeling his consciousness come back to him. “Michael! The bottle!”

“Oh, _now_ you care about the-“

“Shut up!” Jeremy cried. “I love you, but shut up! There’s still a few drops left!”

“What?”

“What?!” The SQUIP snarled, turning back to the bottle.

“Not today!” Michael yelled, launching himself at the SQUIP’s back and sending them both colliding to the floor.

“You-!” The SQUIP snarled, raising his hand to Michael’s temple.

“Sorry, dude.” Michael grinned. “I’ll take my awesome retro Mountain Dew over that gross gamer hell drink any day. Jeremy, go!”

“On it!” Jeremy called, web-slinging over his classmates and rolling to a landing next to the bottle. Just as he grabbed it, a small body tackled him from behind.

Not Rich smiled down at him wickedly, his hands clenched around Jeremy’s wrists in a vice grip.

“Rich!” Jeremy yelped. “Rich, please!”

“He can’t hear you!” The SQUIP yelled from behind them. Michael slammed his elbow into his head.

“Rich, come on, you’re – you’re one of my best friends, please-!”

Rich snarled, his hands moving from Jeremy’s wrists to his throat.

Jeremy gasped, the air rushing out of his lungs. Rich glared down at him, face red and eyes bulging, twisting his arms around Jeremy’s neck.

“Rich…” Jeremy wheeze. “Please, you – please…”

Behind them, the SQUIP pulled Michael off of his back and slammed him into the floor.

“You’re our best friend, Rich…” Jeremy whispered. “You always were.”

The SQUIP grabbed Michael by the hair and slammed his face into the ground.

Rich’s hands tightened around Jeremy’s neck.

“Please…”

Rich screwed his eyes shut, opened his mouth, and screamed.

He threw himself off of Jeremy and charged at the SQUIP, screaming like he was being burned alive. He launched himself at the Keanu Reeves copy, locking his arms around his neck and pulling backwards. The SQUIP’s body spluttered, scrabbling at Rich’s arms, reaching for his temple. Rich bit his fingers, and the SQUIP screeched.

Michael seized his opening, running to Jeremy’s side.

“Jeremy!” He cried. “Are you okay? Breathe for me, come on…”

The SQUIP spun around, somehow managing to throw Rich off of him, but he wasn’t deterred. Rich grabbed an abandoned syringe from the floor, tackled the SQUIP’s chest and stabbed it into his neck.

Jeremy sucked in a breath, grabbing the bottle.

“Let’s go!” He gasped. “Get Rich, and let’s go!”

They turned around to see the SQUIP grab Rich by the front of his tank top and shove him into the ground. Rich coughed and spluttered, scrabbling to get back up again, but before he could, the SQUIP grabbed a half-empty beer bottle and splashed it’s contents over Rich’s body.

“Wait-“ Jeremy’s eyes widened as he saw the SQUIP reach for a lighter. “Wait, no-!”

Rich’s body burst into flames.

“No!” Jeremy screamed. Michael let out a broken cry behind him. Rich’s body dropped to the floor, contorting horrifically. He rolled and writhed on the floor, screaming bloody murder as the flames licked up his skin.

Jeremy made to run towards him, but the SQUIP stood in front of him, grinning at them menacingly.

“Jer.” Michael whispered, pulling on Jeremy’s hand.

“But – Rich-!”

“We’ll get him.” Michael said firmly, his face set in a determined scowl. “We won’t leave him here. But first we’ve gotta kill this fucker.”

Jeremy bit back a sob and let Michael pull them to the stairs, the SQUIP zombies hot on their heels.

“Hurry!” Michael yelled, pulling them onto the crumbling second floor. The SQUIP zombies followed behind them, scrabbling at their feet. The floor creaked beneath them.

“Michael…” Jeremy whispered. Michael quickly noticed what he was referring to. The combined weight of them and the SQUIP zombies was weighing down the already rotting floor of the station. It was going to collapse.

“They’re gonna fall.” Michael realised. “Quick, shove!”

They dashed forward. Jeremy planted his shoulder under Jake Dillinger’s chest, shoving him back down the stairs and sending Dustin, Madeline and Chloe down with him. He winced as they fell, but they weren’t dead, which was something.

Michael made quick word of Brooke, Jared, Jenna and Evan, pushing them over the stairs in a heap. He carefully picked up Christine, kicking and screaming like a toddler, and placed her behind the barrier of bodies.

Jeremy yelped, feeling a piercing pain in his skull. The SQUIP screeched from bellow them, sprinting up the staircase with abnormal speed.

“Michael!”

“Shit!” Michael hissed. “C’mon, other side, quickly!”

They ran back to the crumbling floor. Jeremy winced as it cracked under their weight.

“Michael-“

“Just trust me!” Michael said quickly, and, well. Jeremy couldn’t say no to that.

He took Michael’s hand, the two of them carefully making their way across the second floor.

“Shit.” Michael said again. “Jeremy, forget being careful, run!”

Before Jeremy could ask, the hairs on his arms prickled. He turned his head. The SQUIP clambered over the mound of bodies, landing a few metres behind them, back arched like a feral cat.

“Jeremy, _run!”_ Michael yelled, grabbing Jeremy’s hand and sprinting across the floor. The SQUIP snarled, chasing after them.

The floor began to give way.

“Michael!”

“I know, keep moving!”

The SQUIP was catching up the them, the falling floor close behind.

“Jeremy, jump!”

“What?!”

“Jump!” Michael ordered. Jeremy locked his eyes on the windowsill in front of them. He grabbed Michael around the waist, launched a web at the window, screwed his eyes shut and prayed.

The web stuck.

Jeremy opened his eyes, the two of them swinging to the window as the floor collapsed around them. Just as he was about to cheer, a cold hand wrapped around his ankle.

“Jeremy!” Michael cried as all three of them slammed into the wall under the window sill, grabbing the web with one hand and Jeremy’s bicep with the other, groaning at the weight.

The SQUIP snarled, clawing his way up Jeremy’s body. He shoved two fingers to Jeremy’s temple, and Jeremy almost blacked out from the pain. He threw his head back and screamed.

“Get off my boyfriend, asshole!” Michael snapped, kicking the SQUIP in the head. His eyes rolled backwards, and his grip slipped. He fell to the ground beneath them, a sickening slap-crunch sound echoing behind him. Jeremy didn’t dare look down.

“Hold on…” Michael whispered, his grip straining on the web. “Just – just hold on, we’ll get outta here…”

Miraculously, he somehow pulled them up to what was left of the second floor.

“Careful.” He murmured, shoving Jeremy onto a ledge. “Here – there’s a bathroom here, go in there…”

Jeremy’s body crawled its way through the door to the bathroom, collapsing on the dusty floor, Michael close behind.

“Jesus.” Michael gasped as he flopped onto the floor. “Jesus, that was – that was…” He sighed, turning to face Jeremy. “You okay?”

The SQUIP smiled at him gently.

“I am now.”

“Thank fuck.” Michael whispered. “Christ, I thought – Oh, Jesus…” He laughed brokenly. “I thought – I thought we were gonna die there, Jer, I mean-!”

“Hey.” The SQUIP said softly, a perfect rendition of Jeremy’s voice. “It’s okay. We’re safe now.”

 _Michael!_ Jeremy cried from inside his mind. _Michael, it’s not me! Michael!_

“Jesus.” A small sob escaped Michael’s lips. “I was – Shit, I was so scared, Jer…”

“It’s okay.” The SQUIP repeated. “Everything’s going to be fine, Michael.”

 _No it won’t!_ Jeremy screamed. _Michael, please!_

“How are you so calm right now?” Michael laughed. “Fuck, after everything that just happened… I thought you’d be freaking out a shit ton by now.”

 _I **am**! _ Jeremy thought bitterly. _Michael, please, you have to know it’s not me – Michael!_

“I would be.” The SQUIP chuckled gently. “But I need to make sure you’re safe first, Mikey.”

_Liar, liar, **liar**!_

“Mikey?” Michael frowned. “Dude, I know we just, like – survived the apocalypse or whatever, but still. Never call me Mikey.”

“Oh!” The SQUIP laughed nervously. “Yeah, sorry.”

_Have to help Michael have to stop him help Michael stop the SQUIP he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying_

“He’s lying!” Jeremy cried. Michael jumped, gaping at him.

“Jeremy?” He frowned. “Are – are you okay? Is this shock, are you going into shock? My mom told me about this, I just-“

Jeremy could feel the SQUIP trying to force his jaw shut.

“Our first concert!” He yelled. “Our first concert, do you remember?!”

That was all he could get out before the SQUIP forced him away.

“Wh- yeah, of course I remember, Jer.” Michael frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine!” The SQUIP said quickly. Michael furrowed his brow, scanning him carefully.

“Okay…” He drawled. “Oh! Shit, I forgot.” He laughed, tugging a bottle from his pocket. “Check out what survived the fall! Here, let’s get you fixed up.”

“We don’t need to do that!” The SQUIP said before Michael had even finished talking, a plastic smile forcing it’s way across Jeremy’s face.

“What?” Michael frowned. “But – The SQUIP-“

“It’s gone now!” The SQUIP made it’s fake smile spread even further. Jeremy could feel his cheeks ache. “Let’s just – I-I just want to be near you for now, Mikey!”

“Dude, we went over this when we were like, eight, you don’t call me-“ Michael paused. He narrowed his eyes carefully. “What were you saying about our first concert?”

“Nothing!” The SQUIP said like lightning. “Nothing, I was just, uh, nervous! A little shaken up, I guess…”

Michael nodded slowly.

“Uh huh. Yeah.” He drawled. “Still a good concert though. Don’tcha just love Fall Out Boy?”

Jeremy tried to keep his mind blank. He couldn’t let the SQUIP hear him…

“Yeah!” The SQUIP smiled. “It’s – they’re the best!”

“Actually…” Michael frowned. “I don’t think Fall Out Boy was our first concert.”

“Uh – y-you don’t?” The SQUIP chuckled.

“No. You hate Fall Out Boy.”

“Uh – right!” The SQUIP laughed. “Sorry, I’m just – I’m _so_ tired, uh – why don’t we just go home, Mike- Michael?”

“Actually.” Michael smirked, running his hand up Jeremy’s arm. “Can I – sorry, this’ll probably sound weird, but…” He leaned in slightly. “Can I kiss you? Just – I need to make sure this isn’t a dream.” He laughed gently. “Sorry. I get sappy when I’m nervous.”

“Uh…” The SQUIP blanked. Michael looked at him expectantly. “Uh – sure! Yeah, of – of course, Michael…”

Michael smiled. Quickly, before the SQUIP could react, he raised the bottle to his lips, took a swig, and pressed his lips to Jeremy’s.

The SQUIP yelped, trying to shove Michael away, but Michael grabbed him by the back of his skull, forcing his tongue into Jeremy’s mouth and pushing the red liquid down his throat. The SQUIP gasped, finally jumping away.

“You-!” He spluttered, choking painfully, but the damage was already done. Jeremy felt a burning sensation in his stomach, spreading up his throat to his head. The SQUIP jolted, clutching Jeremy’s chest. “You…” He hissed, plastic smile fading. “You poisoned me…”

Michael grinned lazily.

“Hope ya brought knee pads, bitch.” He said, pulling his lips back in a snarl. “’Cause you’re about to suck. My. Dick.”

The SQUIP threw Jeremy’s head back and shrieked. An earsplitting sound, like if nails on chalkboards and forks in a blender mutated together to make some kind of hell-demon sound.

Suddenly, Jeremy felt everything at once, burning on his arms, stairs stabbing into his back, a splitting pain down the centre of his skull, and then he’s screaming too and it’s too much, too much, too much-!

And then Michael’s there, cradling him close to his chest, making soothing noises and holding him tight.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in Jeremy’s ear. “It’s okay, you’re safe, just hold on a little longer, Jer, you’re doing so well, sweetie, just hold on…”

Jeremy coughed and spluttered once, twice, and feels his body go limp and slug-like. He smiled at Michael blearily.

“I love you.” He mumbles. Michael chuckles breathily, tears prickling in his eyes.

“I love you, too, dumbass.”

Jeremy smiled, leaning up to kiss him, and that was about when he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i wrote this in one night while sleep deprived as shit


	11. Finally, Some Fucking Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of this was just me improvising and trying to fill up all the plotholes.

When Jeremy woke up, he was in hospital, and his head hurt too much for him to focus on anything.

“Ow.” He winced. “Ow ow _ow_.”

“Feels like you’re missing a part of yourself, doesn’t it?”

Jeremy’s head snapped up to see Rich laying in the bed next to him. He shifted uncomfortably, winding crisp white hospital sheets around his scarred fingers.

Hospital. They’re in a hospital. Why are they in a hospital?

“Hurts like a motherfucker, too…” Rich mumbled, scratching a large burn on his face.

“Rich?” Jeremy said finally. “What – what happened to you?”

Rich snorted. “You seriously forgot? Dude, I was literally a human torch. Figured it’d be a little more memorable than that.”

Jeremy tensed, his mind flashing back to Rich screaming, Rich fighting, Rich _burning_.

“Rich…” He murmured. “I’m so sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” Rich frowned. “Why the fuck are you sorry?”

Jeremy gaped at him.

“Because…” He mumbled. “Because I couldn’t help you. I just – just stood there and _watched_ as he – a-as he…” He felt a sob rising in his throat.

“Dude.” Rich said gently. “You did all that you could. Like, I actually… I really thought that thing woulda _killed_ me if you and Mike hadn’t stepped in. Hell, I didn’t even think you _would_ step in.”

“What?” Jeremy frowned. “Why wouldn’t we-?”

“Because I was a fucking dick, Jeremy!” Rich snapped. “Did you – Did you not fucking _see_ what I did to you two?! I was – I actually…” He swallowed hard, scowling at the sheets beneath him. It looked like he was fighting back tears.

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something, but Rich cut him off.

“Y’know why I actually listened to that fucking hard drive?” He said, voice cracking harshly. “I actually – I just…” He sighed, face falling. “I wanted what you and Michael had.”

“… What?” Jeremy whispered.

“I wanted…” Rich sighed, scratching the burn on his face. “I just – it felt like you guys were the main ones, y’know? Like – you and Michael… You were so close. You were all, ‘hey, player one, player two!’ and shit. And then I was just – I wasn’t even a fucking _player_ , man. And then you guys were all lovey and crushy and I was just in the middle listening to you guys gush about each other – I know it sounds terrible…”

“Rich-“

“I just wanted to be a part of something.” Rich huffed, flopping back in his hospital bed. “I know that’s awful. But that’s why I did it. And then it went too far, and I was in too deep, and – I _wanted_ to stop it, but I couldn’t, and then…” He choked then, his eyes screwing shut.

“But you did.” Jeremy murmured gently. “You snapped out of it. You warned me, and you – you saved my _life_ , Rich.”

“Yeah, I saved you from _me_.” Rich said bitterly. “What a hero I am.”

“No, Rich. It was the SQUIP, it was the one telling you to hurt me and Michael. You didn’t listen. I only got out of it’s control because my mutation blocked it – you actually fought it.” Jeremy bit back a laugh. “Rich… You’re badass, dude!”

Rich chuckled bitterly. “So, that’s true, then? I wasn’t SQUIP hallucinating or something?”

Jeremy frowned, confused.

“You’re SpiderMan.”

Jeremy froze.

“… Shit.”

Rich let out a small laugh.

“Yep.” He snickered, though it sounded strained. “That really was a thing then, huh?”

“Kinda?” Jeremy shifted awkwardly. “I-It’s, um… It’s a long story…”

“Yeah?” Rich rose an eyebrow. “And when were you gonna tell me that?”

“Uh – what?”

“I mean, Michael knew…” Rich muttered.

“Rich, I-“

“No – shut up, I was – ugh…” Rich sighed, slinging his forearm over his eyes. “I’m being a bitch, don’t listen to me.”

“I…” Jeremy mumbled. “I _did_ want to tell you, Rich. I only told Michael because I fucked up and he was getting panicky and we were dating at the time and your SQUIP was messing you up and-“

“Jeremy.” Rich deadpanned, fixing him with an unimpressed stare. “Seriously. It’s fine. I’m just being a bitch. Oh, Christ…” He winced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times did I call SpiderMan hot at lunch?”

“A lot.” Jeremy grimaced. “Graphically. And on the group chat.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rich sighed, giving Jeremy a quick once over. “You’re a lot hotter with the suit on.”

“Um – thanks, I think?”

“Seriously, do you actually have muscles or was that just padding?”

“Uh – no. No, the mutation, like – upgraded me, I guess.”

“Damn.” Rich hummed, impressed. “So the suit highlighting all your muscles, was that a coincidence or did you actually plan that?”

Jeremy looked away, biting his lip.

“Oh my _god_.”

“I wasn’t used to having muscles, I wanted to show them off!”

“Oh my _god!!”_ Rich cackled. Jeremy laughed along awkwardly, not sure if he really should be laughing. He cleared his throat.

“Look, Rich-“

“I know, okay?” Rich sighed. “I already had this whole emotional lecture thing with Michael, I get it. You guys were dealing with a lot of shit. That’s fine. I get it.”

“But it’s not fine!” Jeremy said indignantly. “Rich – yeah, we had other stuff happening, but still, we-!” He sighed, looking away. “We should’ve noticed how you were feeling, at least. You’re always there to talk to us about our dumb insecurities. We should’ve been there for yours, too.”

“Damn.” Rich chuckled. “Michael said _literally_ the exact same thing.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I really am sorry, Rich.” Jeremy mumbled. “Like, Michael may be my childhood friend, and my boyfriend, and everything… But you’re still my best friend, too, bro. You’re like, the greatest guy I know!”

“Jeremy, seriously-“

“No!” Jeremy cried. “Really, Rich, you’re like a five foot four ball of awesomeness! You were so awesome when I came out to you, and whenever I get anxious you’ll always make a dumb joke and get the focus off me, and – yeah, your jokes! Those are funny! You’re a funny guy, Rich! And, and you’re-“

“Oh my god, stop!” Rich groaned. “I take it back, this is horrible!”

“You are a stand-up guy, Rich!”

“I hate this!”

“Uh – what’s happening?”

The two looked up to the door of the hospital room. Michael stood in the doorway awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Michael!” Jeremy cried in delight.

“H-Hey, Jer.” Michael smiled anxiously, giving a tiny wave. “What’s happening?”

“Please make him stop!” Rich pleaded gravely. Jeremy grinned.

“It’s real Rich Loving Hours in this Chili’s tonight!”

“Oh yeah?” Michael smirked. “Count me in!”

 _“Noooo!”_ Rich groaned. “No no no, I take it back, let me be sad and depressed again!”

“Aww!” Michael grinned, skipping over to Rich’s bed. “It’s okay, Rich!”

“No!”

“You’re safe now!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Let me love you, orphan boy!” Michael cried, pulling Rich into a bear hug.

“No!” Rich all but screamed. “I reject the love, let me go!”

“I want in!” Jeremy cheered, jumping out of his hospital bed and immediately being hit by a wave of nausea. “Oh no…” He mumbled weakly as he swayed on his feet.

“Oh!” Michael gasped, rushing to his side. “I gotcha, I gotcha!”

He grabbed Jeremy by the waist gently, moving him so his arm was wrapped around Jeremy’s torso.

“Here, arm over my shoulders…” He murmured, holding Jeremy close to his chest and carefully walking him back to his bed.

“Aww!” Rich cooed from his bed. “You two are disgusting!”

“Shut up!” Michael snapped, pulling a chair up next to Jeremy’s bed. “This is Rich Loving Hours, not Jeremy and Michael Mocking Hours!” He turned to face Jeremy and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jeremy smiled nervously. “Um. You don’t seem pissed?”

“Oh, I am.” Michael said seriously. “You seriously just upped and left without saying or doing anything but leaving me some cryptic text message?!” He snapped, pulling up his phone and showing him the offending messages, like evidence. “I do not talk in my sleep!”

“You do.”

“You do.” Rich confirmed. “You fell asleep here one time and spent most of the night babbling about Jeremy.”

“Aww!”

“He called you an asshole furry, like, seven times. It wasn’t that cute.”

“Oh.” Jeremy mumbled. “So, um. Am I… Are we still-?”

“Calm down, Jer, I’m not going anywhere.” Michael huffed, though there was fondness in his eyes. “I mean, I am pissed. You can’t just run off and fight super computers or whatever without telling me and expect me to keep being chill with it!” He snapped. “I know you’re some big superhero, but I’m not-!“

He cut himself off and sighed, deflating slightly.

“I won’t be able to find you every time you do something stupid, Jer.”

Jeremy felt his stomach drop.

“I know that…” He murmured. “I just wanted to protect you, Micah.”

Michael sighed, taking Jeremy’s hand in his.

“I know that.” He said softly. “But you need to be able to tell me things. I’m not gonna stick around if you keep hiding shit from me.”

“Okay.” Jeremy sighed. “No more secrets. I promise.”

“Good.” Michael said gratefully. “I appreciate it, Jer. I know I can’t stop you from doing stupid shit, but…”

“You still want to know. I get it.” Jeremy smiled understandingly. “It’s about respect. And I do respect you, Micah.”

“You’d better.” Michael chuckled. “I’m fucking awesome.”

Jeremy giggled softly.

“Does, um…” He smiled nervously. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Oh, hell no. Not yet, at least.” Michael stated seriously. “I am severely pissed, and you _will_ make it up to me with hugs and kisses. But…” He said slowly, looking away. “I do get why you did it.”

Jeremy frowned. “You do?”

“Sort of.” Michael shrugged. “I mean, when you left to go fight that dumb floppy disk, I remember thinking, y’know, if that thing kills him, then I will shoot it in the head and then fuck the brain hole.”

“Oh.”

“And when we were fighting those SQUIP zombies, I was like, okay, we might die here, but I’m gonna do fucking anything I can to keep Jeremy alive, even if I end up getting hurt or worse in the process.”

“Wh- Michael!” Jeremy cried. “No, you – you were _not_ thinking that, you can’t do that!”

“Yep, pretty dumb, right?” Michael smirked. “You do realise that’s _exactly_ how I feel when you ran off to do stupid shit, right?”

Jeremy froze.

“I – oh…”

“I think you freaked his mind, dude.”

Both Jeremy and Michael jolted, turning to face Rich, who was just chilling in his bed.

“What?” He frowned. “Oh, sorry, did you guys forget I was here? Would you rather I pull my curtain shut so you can just ignore my existence and go back to your lovey dovey relationship?”

“Wha- no!” Jeremy protested. “No way, it’s Rich Loving Hours! We can’t forget about you!”

“Yeah!” Michael grinned. “C’mon, Jer, let’s go love Rich!”

“Yeah!”

“Wait, what?” Rich blanked. Jeremy grinned wickedly as Michael slowly pulled him to his feet. “No. _No_ , we are not doing this, you are so not doing this!”

“Yeah, we are!” Michael cheered, dropping Jeremy on one side of Rich’s and jogging around his bed to the other side, the two of them pulling Rich into a group hug.

“I! Hate! This!” Rich whined, squirming in their grip.

“We love you!” Jeremy cooed, hugging him tight, but being mindful of Rich’s burn scars.

“I wish the SQUIP had killed me.” Rich groaned. Both Jeremy and Michael went still. Rich winced. “Too soon?”

“Too soon.” Jeremy mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Seriously, don’t be.” Rich sighed. “Just – fucking hug me, assholes.”

That, they could do.

“Y’know.” Michael said. “I think I might have something that’ll lighten things up around here.”

“Oh yeah?” Rich frowned. “What’s that?”

“Well,” Michael grinned, jumping off the bed and jogging to the other side of the room. “Jeremy left his backpack with me, and the SQUIP dumped your and the others packs outside the old station, so I kinda raided ‘em.”

“You what?” Jeremy frowned.

“Tadaa!” Michael cheered, holding up three plastic sheets. Beside Jeremy, Rich’s face spread into a slow grin.

“Michael, you beautiful bastard.”

oOo

A few minutes and a lot of water spills later, all three of them had cheesy fake tattoos stuck onto their skin; Michael and Jeremy with their matching Pac-Mans, Rich with the dumb smiley star on his shoulder.

“Awesome.” Rich grinned, flexing his shoulder muscles and watching the star stretch with the movement.

“They are pretty awesome.” Jeremy laughed, holding his and Michael’s arms together so their half-tattoos turned into one big matching one.

Rich smiled at them both, shuffling in his bed so he could wrap his arms around both their shoulders.

“Three muskequeers?” He said quietly.

Michael laughed, pulling them both into another big hug.

“Three muskequeers!”

Jeremy smiled as his two best friends embraced him tightly. For possibly the millionth time, he wondered how he managed to become friends with the coolest people in the world.

oOo

Kleinman Corp. had started the project.

When Jeremy came home from the hospital, the first thing he did was check all the files in his mothers storage space. He had Michael bring them over, and poured over every one. And there it was, clear as day.

His mother had been hired by Kleinman Corp. She’d been doing research on A.I, and Kleinman was interested. They put her in charge of a project. The Neuro Transplant Computer Circuit, or NTCC, Media Unlimited project.

The objective was pretty clear. Create a personal assistant that told you everything you needed to know. It was pretty tough. No regular engineer would be able to do it. Jeremy’s mom was no regular engineer.

It took work. A lot of work. A lot of all-nighters at work. A lot of days locked in her office. And she didn’t just reach the goal. She _destroyed_ the goal.

The end result was way more than anything Kleinman had expected. She’d gone above and beyond. It was big. Bigger than Kleinman expected.

So they decided to go bigger.

The all-nighters turned into all-weekers. The days locked in her office stopped – because she moved her office into the Kleinman building.

They wanted more. She delivered. And the end result was everything anyone could’ve ever wanted.

A personal assistant. One that told you everything you wanted to know. How to do your math homework, how to fit in, how to get the girl, how to climb the social ladder to the _top_.

It was a nice thought.

And then it became a reality.

They had a test subject. A Mr Eric Williams. Yeah. That Eric Williams. As in, Mysterious Disappearance Eric Williams. Turns out, his disappearance wasn’t so mysterious. He took a pill, it jacked his mind, changed his name, burned off all his fingerprints and, apparently, got extensive face surgery to look like Keanu Reeves.

That was about when Jeremy’s mom quit the project.

She knew it was going too far. She knew it was too much. So she left. Packed up and did research on spiders at Dillinger Inc.

A few years later, and she got a note. Signed by a Mr Eric Williams, demanding she gave him all the research she had on the NTCC Media Unlimited research, or he’d take it from her.

It was the same handwriting and everything. Jeremy checked.

Jeremy checked the date the note was sent. It was exactly a week before she disappeared. It was also exactly a week before she opened up a storage unit. Cash, no credit, so it couldn’t be traced back to her. Jeremy’d always wondered why that storage unit had always been there. He’d also wondered why all those boxes had gotten there before he’d started storing her notes.

He didn’t know if it was just good planning, or if the SQUIP had gotten to her first. Maybe it was just a coincidence. But all he knew was that she never came back. And then the SQUIP started targeting Dillinger’s branches. Law firms, science headquarters. The hospital Michael’s mom worked at. Anywhere that might have the research he was looking for. And he got it. Started his spore attacks. Apparently, the attack on Dillinger’s science headquarters was a test run. But it wasn’t perfect.

Jeremy’s mom had added a failsafe. A way to shut down the circuit. And naturally, the SQUIP didn’t like that. Mountain Dew Red had been discontinued in the nineties, but there were still some nostalgic retro nerds (read: Michael) who managed to get their hands on some. Worst came to worst, the whole operation would be shut down. So he wanted to upgrade. Improve the technology so that it could never be shut down. Luckily, he didn’t get his information. Extra luckily, Michael shut him down before he ever could.

Jeremy decided not to spill on Kleinman. It wasn't like he had any proof. Eric Williams's body had never been found, though a few Kleinman goons had been spotted fleeing the scene. It wasn't anything the company couldn't cover up.

Jeremy thought about keeping the research, but decided against it. He didn’t need any more defective hiveminds or batshit scientists trying to finish what his mother started.

Instead, he took all the notes and research on the NTCC Media Unlimited to that same greasy beach where the SQUIP made his offer, doused it in gasoline, made sure he was standing far away from it, threw a match on it, threw another match on it because the first one wasn’t actually lit, and then jumped over that fence and ran all the way back home.

He didn’t look back as it burned. Partially because he wanted to get out of there as fast as possible in case the police came, but mostly because he didn’t want to. He didn’t care about having answers anymore. He didn’t need them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW ITS SHORT BUT I WANTED TO SPLIT THE EPILOGUE INTO TWO DIFFERENT CHAPTERS BECAUSE THEY DIDNT WORK WELL TOGETHER ITS COMING SOON


	12. IT'S FINALLY OVER!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things weren't exactly 'back to normal'. Honestly, things had never been normal for Jeremy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IT'S OVER I CAN REST MY SOUL IS FREE FROM THIS HELL STORY THANK F U C K
> 
> sorry about the chapter separation, guys. i kinda went back and forth on it, but i decided it was for the best. the two epilogues just didn't work together. my bad, guys.

Things weren’t exactly ‘back to normal’. Honestly, things had never been normal for Jeremy.

After about three days in the hospital and a vague explanation of what’d happened (apparently Jake and Chloe had told people it was just a bad ecstasy trip. Jeremy decided to go along with it), he was able to go back home, though his dad insisted he spent another three days resting in bed. At least Michael and Rich had been allowed to visit him. And sometimes just Michael.

(They asked Rich if that was okay, but Rich shook them off. “You two have been apart for almost a week.” Rich had laughed. “Believe me, you _need_ the alone time.”)

When Jeremy came back to school after his three days bedrest, things were definitely _not_ normal.

Turns out all of them being SQUIPed had sort of… Connected him to everyone from the Dillinger trip. While Dustin Kropp, Evan Hansen and Jared Kleinman were way too freaked out about the whole ordeal and just wanted to forget about it, Jake, Chloe, Jenna, Brooke, Christine, Rich and Michael had all formed a tight little group. When Jeremy had walked into the cafeteria on his first day back, it was a little confusing.

“Hey, Jerry H!” Jake had hollered.

“That so doesn’t work.” Jenna grimaced.

“Yeah, that wasn't my best.” Jake sighed, slumping his cheek on his hand.

“What’s happening?” Jeremy frowned, slipping into a seat beside Michael.

“Apparently, taking weird ecstasy in an abandoned train station makes you bonded for life.” He smirked, sipping on his slushie.

“Life.” Chloe emphasised, face deadly serious.

“Don’t worry, though.” Rich grinned. “They all meet the muskequeer requirements.”

“The what?”

“We’re all LGBT, and we all have _these_ babies!” Christine grinned, hiking up her sleeve to show off a fake tattoo of a small smiley sunflower.

“Nice!” Jeremy laughed. “Wait.”

He’d known about Christine’s biromantic-asexual- _ness_. But the rest of them, too?

“You’re all LGBT?” He frowned. “You all got _fake tattoos?”_

“Rich made them.” Michael sighed. “It got ugly.”

“It is true what they say online, Jeremy.” Jenna shrugged, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a pumpkin with a purple witches hat on her wrist. “We do travel in packs. I’m super gay and super ace, if you need to know.”

“Uh, I-I didn’t, really, I mean, it’s your business-“

“I’m pan!” Brooke exclaimed, showing off a tattoo of a cup of icecream – no, frozen yoghurt, on her neck. “Pan and proud!”

“I’m a massive lesbian.” Chloe said simply, holding up her and Brooke’s joined hands and opening her jacket for them to see a cherry printed onto her waist. “If you have a problem with that, you can choke.”

“I don’t, you guys really don’t need to share this if you don’t want-“

“I’m pan too!” Jake grinned, lifting up his sleeve to show a unicorn on his shoulder (the mane was made out of the pansexual flag colours. Probably a coincidence, but still, pretty cool). He grinned, throwing an arm over Rich’s shoulder. “But Rich knew that already.”

Rich flushed, smiling at the ground.

“Shut up, dork.”

Jeremy met his eyes and smirked. Rich kicked him under the table.

“Did you guys hear what Mazy Price did yesterday?” Jenna frowned, looking up from her phone. Chloe scoffed.

“Who _didn’t?”_

As Brooke, Jenna and Chloe all launched into an in-depth discussion about Mazy Price and Jake, Rich and Christine started a very heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Jeremy slid his hand over Michael’s, resting his head on his shoulder.

“This is weird, right?” He said quietly, so only Michael could hear.

“Oh, definitely.” Michael smiled, pressing a kiss to Jeremy’s hair. “I fucking _love_ it.”

“Eww!!” Rich groaned from across the table. “Get a room, assholes!”

“Like you can talk!” Michael snapped. “You and Jake were eating each other’s faces for a solid fifteen minutes yesterday!”

Rich flushed and looked away.

“I don’t remember that. Didn’t happen.”

“I do!” Jake grinned. “Best fifteen minutes of my life!”

“Shut up!” Rich squeaked, burying his face in his hands.

Yup, Jeremy thought to himself. Things were definitely _not_ back to normal. But as he looked at Chloe, Brooke and Jenna gossiping, Rich and Michael squabbling, Christine trying to diffuse the situation and Jake just trying to eat his damn lunch in peace, he realised that was fine.

Things weren’t normal. But they were pretty damn good anyways.

oOo

“Hey, Jer.” Michael smiled as he walked into Jeremy’s room. “You good? You sounded pretty serious over the phone.”

“Michael.” Jeremy said gravely, refusing to look at him. “I need to ask you something.”

Michael frowned, rushing to Jeremy’s side.

“What’s wrong?” He said gently. “Are you okay?”

“Michael – I’m sorry, but I need to know.” Jeremy sighed, holding up a picture on his phone. “Are you cheating on me with SpiderMan?”

Michael looked from the picture to Jeremy and back again, eyes wide, scared, and _very_ confused.

Jeremy burst out laughing.

“What the hell?!” Michael snorted, taking the phone from him and zooming in. “Dude, I thought you were serious, what the fuck?!”

“You looked so scared!!” Jeremy cackled, falling backwards onto his bed. “Oh, that was _so_ worth it!”

“I thought you were serious!!” Michael cried, looking at the picture of him and SpiderMan kissing in an alley. “Jesus fuck, how did you get this?!”

“Jenna showed it to Rich who showed it to me.” Jeremy giggled, wheezing slightly. “He lost his shit.”

“Jesus.” Michael sighed, lying down next to him. “Think we’ll have to tell them soon?”

“Later.” Jeremy smiled, cuddling into Michael’s side. “I – I want this to just be between you, me and Rich for now. If everyone else knows… I think it’d get kinda overwhelming.”

“Still, you did choke on your lunchables when Jake called SpiderMan sexy.” Michael grinned. “You’re not doing too good at hiding it, dude.”

“I choked on my lunchables because you and Rich agreed with him!” Jeremy retorted, face flushing red. “In _graphic detail,_ might I add.”

“I want people to know how hot my super-boyfriend is!” Michael snickered, pulling Jeremy to his chest and running his hands up and down his arms. “Can you blame me?”

Jeremy huffed, propping his chin on Michael’s collarbone.

“You only love me for my muscles.” He pouted, tugging on Michael’s wondering hands.

“Okay, I didn’t notice until Rich pointed it out and now I can’t stop.” Michael reasoned, continuing to grope his arms. “Help me, Jer! I’m addicted to your big strong man arms!”

“Oh my god, stop!”

“Hey, if anything, this is _your_ fault!”

“How is this my fault!”

“You have the face of a twink and the body of a fucking _god_. How am I supposed to resist?”

Jeremy squeaked, burrowing into Michael’s chest.

“See?!” Michael cried accusingly. “That shit! You are way too cute for me to handle! You are cute times hot, you are a gays worst nightmare and greatest fantasy, Jeremy! How can I be expected to handle this?!”

“Shut up!” Jeremy squealed, smushing Michael’s face with his hands to make him stop talking. “I love you, but shut up!”

“Aww!” Michael cooed, his voice coming out weird because of his smushed cheeks. “I love you too, Jer-bear!”

“Stop it!” Jeremy warned. “I will web you!”

“Are you offering to cover me with white liquid that comes out of your body?” Michael grinned. “Because I will gladly take that offer.”

“Michael!” Jeremy squeaked. “It’s artificial web fluid, you know that!”

“I know, I know!” Michael laughed. “It’s worth watching you get all flustered. You, dear Jeremy, are _adorable!”_

“Silence!” Jeremy whined. “I will not take this!”

“ _Adorable!”_ Michael yelled.

“Not so loud!”

“Hello, world!” Michael yelled at the ceiling. “Jeremy Heere is the most adorable man alive! I love him! He’s mine!”

“Michael!” Jeremy squeaked, slapping his chest. “You’re gonna make my neighbours hate me!”

“Do they not hear you sneaking in at four in the morning?” Michael scoffed. “They probably already hate you, dude.”

“Ugh.”

“Ugh.” Michael said in agreement.

“I think my dad’s already on to me, by the way.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy sighed. “He keeps on making these weird cryptic comments about SpiderMan, and… I don’t know, maybe I’m just being paranoid. Do you think I should tell him?”

“I’m… I’m not sure, Jer.” Michael said slowly. “I think that one’s your call to make.”

Jeremy sighed again. “I’ll think about it later. That’s Future Jeremy’s problem.”

“That poor bastard.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy smiled bitterly. “Hey.” He murmured, pulling himself into a sitting position. He tugged Michael up with him, holding his face in his hands. “You know I love you, right?”

“Uh-“ Michael blushed, caught off guard. “Yeah?”

“Good.” Jeremy smiled, brushing their lips together softly. “’Cause I do. I really love you. You have no idea how much it means to me that you stuck by me through everything.”

“Oh, I’m not here for you.” Michael smirked. “I’m just waiting to see if this mutation messed with your dick or anything.”

“What?!” Jeremy squawked. “Michael! No!”

“Oh, yes!” Michael grinned wickedly. _“Super penis!”_

“Don’t say that!”

“Spider dick! Spider dick!” Michael sang. “Does whatever a spider dick does!”

“Michael!” Jeremy squeaked, slapping his hands. “No! Bad!”

“Ugh, _fine_.” Michael groaned with fake frustration. He sat up properly, making grabby hands at Jeremy. “Kiss? You still need to pay me back for all those times you were an idiot.”

“That’s a lot of kisses.” Jeremy smirked, pulling Michael towards him.

“Yup.” Michael grinned, popping the ‘p’. “Pay up, Jerm.”

Just as Jeremy was about to press his lips against Michael’s, an explosion sounded off in the distance.

Michael groaned, slumping against Jeremy’s shoulder.

 _“Please_ tell me that was a regular, non-mutant explosion.”

“Sorry, Micah.” Jeremy sighed, checking his buzzing phone. “Villain alert.”

Michael groaned louder, rolling onto Jeremy’s bed.

“Can’t you just tell ‘em to fuck off?”

“Doesn’t work like that, babe.” Jeremy smiled, already shrugging off his clothes so he was wearing only his suit. “I’ll be back soon, though, okay?”

“Fine.” Michael sighed as Jeremy pulled on his mask and sprinted to the window. “Oh, wait!”

Jeremy paused, hanging upside down from his roof. Michael jogged over to him, pulling down his mask slightly and pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet.

He pulled away, lifting Jeremy’s mask back into position, shooting him a wide grin.

“Go kick some ass for me, babe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT WAS THE CHEESIEST ENDING OF ALL TIME BUT I CANT BE BOTHER TO CHANGE IT
> 
> okay i know i procrastinated and complained about this fic A LOT, but honestly, i'm so fucking proud of it. i started this as just some dumb oneshot for an idea i'd been toying with with not much intention of writing that much more and ending with a twelve chap, however the fuck many words, MONSTER. this is the longest fic i've ever written, holy shit. i know it has a lot of plot holes, and i made a lot of mistakes i only noticed after i posted the chapters that i had to edit out, but honestly, this was such a wild ride. i've never written a multichap nor a slowburn before and it turned out so much better than i hoped. not perfect, but i'm actually super proud of this. and that NEVER happens with my writing. so here's the cheesy thank-you part of the final note where i thank all the people who read this and commented and left kudos on this. usually whenever i see people thanking the readers i cringe, but honestly, it did help motivate me to write more, especially on those days when i didn't know what to write and thought about just ending the whole story because i didn't know what to do. thanks guys. you the real mvps.
> 
> special thanks to elissigh and abnormpessimist for letting me rant to them about my ideas and helping me out when i was stuck on some parts. thanks you guys!! ily!!
> 
> it's actually really weird, if elissigh had never messaged me on tumblr about the fic i probably never would'v ended up talking to these guys. that is... really fuckign weird because they're like my best friends ever now. huh.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!!! GOODBYE!!! UNTIL MY NEXT SOUL SUCKING PROJECT!!!
> 
> (it's sooner than you think. i'm already writing a draft)

**Author's Note:**

> michael would throw down for jeremy
> 
> also rich is bill cipher
> 
> might write more but
> 
> i am v depressed and lazy
> 
> tumblr is @apocalypse-of-the-fucked so uh
> 
> get on that
> 
> please


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